White on bloodshed
by Scarletpagan
Summary: Kaoru Kamiya is hidden away from her lover when she discovers he is a vicious killer. But when he finally manages to track her down, secrets hidden from her begin to be uncovered and they threaten to both alter and destroy her life. AU, BxK
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

It started as a dull ache somewhere in the vicinity of her chest, and built until it was a throbbing pain filling her entire being, forcing the air from her lungs.

'Ten seconds,' she thought desperately. "Just ten seconds and this will all be over."

10...9...8...

The fear flowed through her veins like blood, preventing coherent thought. God, was this time going to be the end of her? Was the silence finally going to swallow her whole and leave nothing for her guards to find?

7...6...5...

Time was slowing; she was sure of it. The increasingly slow tick of the clock was deafening and she clutched at the table, her knuckles turning white with the force.

4...3...2...

In and out, in and out. The shadows had crept their way across the floor, stealing into her mind to darken her vision as the silence squeezed like an iron band around her throat. She seared her gaze onto the face of the clock. Kami, please don't let this be the end of Kaoru Kamiya.

1...

'Your food.'

She snapped her head round to the door, her heart thudding in her chest. The tall silhouette of a man blocked the light from the corridor behind, his darkened features giving him a sinister air.

Her saviour.

Aoshi approached the table and gracefully set down the tray of food without so much as a tinkle from the porcelain on it. He tactfully ignored the way her hands shook as she reached for one of the grapes.

'Okon says to eat all your vegetables this time or you'll get nothing but broccoli for a month.'

A shudder ran through her body. Cursed broccoli, how she hated it.

'I suggest avoiding the pie, Misao made it and I believe her test subject got food poisoning.'

He was getting much better at the idle chit chat these days, even managing to inject some forced joviality into it. She wondered briefly if Misao was training him. She had no doubt that it was she who was forcing the stoic ice cube to make conversation when he came to bring her her food. She knew very well that the icy Okashira had no need for trivial small talk. What hell must Aoshi have been through before Misao finally got her way? She had almost certainly driven the poor man up the wall with her non-stop chatter while he tried to meditate. It was one of Misao's favourite tactics to get her way with the emotionless man and as yet it had never failed.

'What is it, Hannya?'

She was dragged out of her amusing reverie by the sudden appearance of the strange man by the window.

'It seems he is on his way, Aoshi-sama.'

She sensed rather than saw Aoshi's displeasure at this information since the impassive mask he called a face gave nothing away. Yet something about the line of his shoulders read tension and the look he gave her, though she couldn't put her finger on why, was somehow different than usual, more disturbed. She, however, felt only a dull sense of resignation. Of course he was coming. He always came.

'Tighten security around the perimeter. He'll get in anyway but we don't want him to take advantage of any leaks to speed up his arrival. We just need to buy enough time to get Bokken out.'

She admired the fact that Aoshi no longer choked over her silly codename. Misao had chosen it as a joke to lighten the mood of their constantly moving convoy and it had caused Aoshi a lot of discomfort. It seemed ages now since Misao had picked it. It was at least seven safe houses ago.

'As you wish Aoshi-sama.'

Hannya bowed respectfully to his leader before disappearing in the split second her eyes closed on a blink. She wondered once again how he always managed to do that no matter how hard she tried to keep her eyes on him.

'Don't leave this room,' Aoshi commanded, all pretence of friendliness gone as he swept quickly back to the door.

The only sound came from his shiny white trench coat swishing through the air. She had a sneaking suspicion that this was the only reason Aoshi wore it, a sort of superhero cape to make him look cool, just like Yahiko carrying his bokken wherever he went.

'Don't worry, Aoshi, I know the drill.'

_I've been through it enough times._

Aoshi simply nodded and left the room and once again she was alone with the ticking of the clock and the suffocating silence. Kaoru sighed quietly. There was a time when she would have taken offence at being ordered around like that by anyone, but now she just took it as part of the status quo. It had not always been this way; she had been happy and independent once.

'_Yahiko-__**chan**__ , if you call me Busu one more time, you and Tsubame won't be having any little Yahikos in the future,' she growled, letting her bokken whistle dangerously close to said student's left ear._

'_You're supposed to be against violence__**, Busu**__,' Yahiko gasped, a light blush dusting his cheeks at the mention of Tsubame's name._

_Skidding back, he just managed to dodge the next, rather unnecessarily aggressive strike._

'_No, I'm against killing. I don't see anything wrong with a bit of grievous bodily harm when it comes to loud mouthed baka deshis.' _

_She aimed another sharp blow, missing what made Yahiko male by a hair and causing him to let out a strangled sigh of relief._

'_Ah the memories,' came a slightly wistful voice from the dojo doorway._

_Kaoru was immediately distracted, forgetting both her infuriating student and the sparring session they were having as she turned a smiling face to the new occupant of the room. What was it about this man that made everything else seem so completely trivial?_

'_Kenshin, what are you doing here so early? I thought we were meeting up at the Akabeko at seven.'_

_She rushed at him and was immediately enveloped in a warm ginger-scented embrace._

'_Kaoru-dono, it is seven thirty.' _

_She felt a chuckle rumble through his chest as she turned horror-struck eyes to the clock, only to discover that he was indeed right. Her distress was short-lived, however, as it was almost immediately replaced by a resurgence of the previously dispelled rage, Yahiko butting in._

'_Ew, Busu, I'm sure Kenshin doesn't want to hold a smelly, ugly hag like you.' _

_She opened her mouth to retort with some equally childish quip before her face lit up in a way that caused Yahiko to pale with fear. He knew that expression._

'_I have to go and get cleaned up, Yahiko. I want you to do another five hundred katas before you lock up and don't even think about skipping a few. You know I always find out.' _

_She indicated the security camera situated high on the wall where it could see the entire dojo floor._

_'Have fun now, Yahiko-__**chan.**__'_

_With an evil laugh she took Kenshin's hand and pulled him from the room, the swearing echoing after them._

The memory made her laugh again, as the sounds of Yahiko's fury still rang in her ears. It would probably have sounded slightly insane to anyone who had been walking by, a woman bursting into impromptu maniacal giggles in a completely silent room. This thought only succeeded in making her laugh harder. It was quashed, however, when voices were heard shouting up and down the corridor, bringing her back to the horror of the present with a bump.

'Isamu, get the damn ammo!'

'All of it?'

'Yes, all of it, Baka, do you have any idea what we're up against?'

A crash and a bright light lit up the darkening sky outside her window and the voices became more frantic.

'Shit! Just grab what you can and get down to the guard posts!'

'I don't want to die! The money isn't worth it, Renku, let's just get the hell outta here!'

'Don't be such a coward. Now get the hell down to the post before I shoot your ass for insubordination.'

A rush of footsteps, and then the eerie hush fell again. Renku should have listened to Isamu, she thought with a false calm. He didn't allow anything to keep him from what he wanted, and anyone who got in his way was as good as dead. It was a pity that she couldn't take Isamu's advice herself. After all, when you were the thing he wanted you didn't have a chance in hell of getting out.

'Oh, Kami, there's no escape,' she whispered to the empty room.

Her breathing became shallow and she closed her eyes, trying to slow the pounding of her heart. There was no escape, no escape; she was never going to be rid of this shadow plaguing her life. She couldn't take this much longer, the stress was killing her.

'_Kaoru-dono, relax,' Kenshin purred in her ear as they made their way towards the mansion house. _

_His attempts at reassuring were lost on her, however, especially with the use of the honorific which he just wouldn't drop despite the fact that they had been dating for three months. The house was huge, the grounds sprawling out as far as she could see. But it wasn't the house itself that was stressing her out. God only knew she had seen more than enough big houses in her young life. No, it wasn't that; it was what was inside it._

_'Sessha's parents are going to love you, that they will.'_

_Squeezing her hand, he practically had to drag her up the steps to the door. It was a definite sign that she was truly terrified when even Kenshin's cute speech quirks couldn't make her smile. _

'_Kaoru-dono, do you trust me?' _

_At her immediate nod he grinned goofily in the way that always made her melt._

_'Then trust Sessha, they will love you.'_

She cursed herself quietly, forcing this painful memory back to where it belonged, back into the far recesses of her mind. Why was it that even now, even after everything that had happened, his voice always soothed her senses, like silk smoothing out the rough edges of her fear?

_Then trust Sessha._

The words echoed once again through her mind, making her face twist into a grimace. That trust had been shattered long ago and the shards still tore mercilessly at her heart. She now wondered vainly if that elderly couple had even been his parents. They had seemed a little off to her, so cold and severe next to their ditzy son. She had felt like a scolded child every time either one looked her way and there had been so little affection passed between them and their son. At the time it had only registered as sadness in her mind, that so sweet a man could have such terrifyingly distant parents. She remembered distinctly being furious, assuming that it was they who had ingrained the use of that horrible word 'Sessha' in him. But now, with everything that had occurred, she couldn't help but wonder if that had been another set-up, another lie to keep her from prying too far into his life. A wave of disgust rolled through her. She had been so afraid to bring to the surface painful memories of a childhood he might prefer to forget. Now, it was oh so clear that he was just trying to prevent her from discovering his true past, his dirty, horrifying past. Tears welled up in her eyes and she once again forced thoughts of him away.

'Get out of my head, damn it, and get out of my life!' she growled angrily.

However, the second her mind focused away from her memories, it returned to something even worse. The shadows had finally won out over the last of the sunlight and she now sat in complete darkness, only prompting the fear that lurked at the corners of her mind to struggle forth. She had to do something quickly before the silence and the shadows combined to swallow her.

She had no idea when this feeling had first developed. It had crept up on her so slowly over her months of captivity that before long every unfilled moment of quiet and solitude was a source of terror for her. Then, after what happened, there were just too many moments.

The room began to get smaller, wringing a frightened whimper from her throat. Surely Aoshi wouldn't mind if she turned on the light? What harm could one more light do in this wretched fortress? After a couple of seconds her fear made her mind up for her. She needed light and space, but more than anything else she craved sound. The desperation was overwhelming to the point where she began to drum her fingernails against the polished wood of the tabletop to stave off the eerie stillness. The constriction of her chest lessened with the noise and she relaxed back in her chair.

A gust of air whispered past her ear, blowing her hair lightly away from her face. Odd, the windows were painted shut and barred in such a way that even if they weren't they couldn't be opened. There really shouldn't be any wind.

She squinted over her shoulder but night had well and truly settled with not a star in the stormy sky. She could barely see a hand in front of her face let alone the windows. Finally, after a moment of indecision, she decided that she would get up to check while turning on the light, killing two birds with one stone.

She made to stand, only to freeze as a distinctive scent reached her nose on that delicate little breeze. Ginger and pine.

'Hello Koneko,' he breathed in her ear.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note :** Ok, here is chapter two people. I'm posting this with chapter one, so that a little more is explained about what is happening in this fic. Chapter three should hopefully be up by the end of the week. After that I'll be preparing for exams so the chapters may flow slower until the summer holidays in July. Enjoy and don't forget to review with your comments!

**Chapter two**

Misao bounced down the corridor, following in the wake of the tall, godlike man ahead of her. People scurried up and down the hallways, shouting with a panic that fed her hyperactivity and made her fairly vibrate with energy. Yet Aoshi was like a bubble of calm, walking at a swift, business-like pace amidst the frenzy of the guards.

'Aoshi-sama, please let me go to her,' Misao cried determinedly. 'She's alone and probably scared. She needs me.'

This debate happened each and every time they were forced to move safe houses, and Aoshi could almost have mouthed along to the arguments Misao used to try to persuade him, if, of course, his pride had not prevented him from looking like an idiot.

'Misao, we have been over this, no one gets to know Kaoru's exact location but me. It's better that way.'

Aoshi stopped and turned to look at her.

'That's not true,' she cried. 'Hannya knows where she is, I know he does.'

Aoshi would have winced if he wasn't so stoical. He hadn't been lying. No one was supposed to know where Kaoru was but him. He had taken every precaution his training had taught him to prevent anyone following him when he delivered her food. Yet, somehow Hannya, in his infinite and maddening wisdom, always knew exactly where he was when he needed to see him.

'Misao, the answer is no. End of story. No one is to go and see Kaoru.'

The angry young woman let out an unladylike snort.

'Don't treat me like I'm stupid, Aoshi-sama. I know that the only reason we're not allowed to see her is because of what happened, isn't it? You think I'm too weak to protect Kaoru but you don't want to hurt my feelings so you're not letting anyone else see her either to cover it up. You think I'm not good enough to be in the Oniwabanshu, don't you?'

Her words were thrown at him in one long stream and when it was over she was left panting lightly. Aoshi stared at her a moment, shocked at how near and yet how far she was from the truth. He still maintained his emotionless mask, however, and perhaps the only sign of his distress was an almost imperceptible tightening of his jaw. Her words had brought it all back to him, that horrible night.

'_Get ready to move,' Aoshi told the two young women in the darkened room before turning to leave._

_He didn't wait for the affirmative reply he knew was coming._

'_Hai, Aoshi-sama,' was the immediate chirpy response and he heard the rustling of bedclothes as one girl bounded from the bed and commenced bouncing energetically on it to rouse the other. _

_He left in silence but as he walked down the corridor he could hear the sounds of Misao giggling maniacally while Kaoru made use of her extensive selection of curses, learnt from years of training kendo to rowdy boys. _

_He was just rounding the corner in search of Okon to begin preparations for the departure when the tone of the shouting in the room changed. It no longer sounded like playful bantering anger and more like screaming. He was moving back down the corridor before his mind had even caught up with his instincts and he burst through the door in time to catch the way the blood splattered across the wall, creating a disgustingly mesmerising pattern in the dim light._

The scar she had received spanned her abdomen and if it had been any deeper it would have gutted her. Instead it had caused major blood loss, required immediate, lifesaving surgery and months of painful physical therapy while on the move with the convoy. He would never admit it even in the deepest self-reflective meditation, but he had been jarred to the core. He had almost lost the petite, spitfire that day and the thought was excruciating, unbearable. He was a man who learnt his lessons and he refused point blank to take that chance again. It was brutal, but there was no way in hell he was going to let Misao near the death trap that was Kaoru until this was over. He was not an imbecile, he saw how the isolation was affecting Misao's friend, the way she faltered further out of reach with each passing day, but he wouldn't, simply couldn't, let Misao be hurt again, even if he had to sacrifice Kaoru for it, even if he had to watch the solitude eat away at her soul and drive her slowly insane.

He dragged himself from these thoughts, looking down at Misao's pretty, innocent face.

He used his best authoritative tone.

'No, Misao, and that is final.'

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Kaoru couldn't move, could barely breathe, so thought was definitely impossible. She sat stiffly in her chair as she waited for him to make the next move in their sick little game.

'You have caused me a lot of trouble, Koneko,' he rumbled against her hair, his voice fire and silk.

She felt him bend forwards to inhale her scent, his mouth brushing against the shell of her ear before lowering to the skin just below it. The shudder that slid through her body, part fear and, horrifyingly, part desire, seemed to reanimate her and she opened her mouth to scream, a hand instantly clamping over it.

'Now, now, Koneko, we don't want to ruin our reunion, do we? Some of us have been waiting so very long for it.'

She gasped as she felt his teeth graze over that one sensitive spot only Kenshin knew about. Instinct took over and, although part of her insisted that this was quite definitely a welcome sensation, she threw her weight back with all her force using her head as a weapon. He, however, had other plans and steadied her chair, dodging her attempt easily by leaning a little sideways.

'You're quite right, Koneko,' he purred softly. 'What was I thinking? This is not the time or the place, we might be interrupted at any moment and we most certainly don't want that, do we?'

With that said, he wrapped one arm firmly around her torso and arms, preventing movement in her upper body, and proceeded to lift her as though she weighed nothing.

Kaoru's mind was in turmoil. What could she do? She had no weapon and no one was going to come in until Aoshi came to get her, unless she gave them cause, and how in Kami's name could she do that with nothing in reach? Her eyes scanned the room frantically before falling on the table in front of her. She could have kicked herself. Her father had drilled into her two vital rules for survival. The most important was never to panic under any circumstances and she was already failing at that one pretty spectacularly, her heart beating as though it would burst free of her ribs. The second was to pick your location carefully and, if that wasn't possible, to make the best use you could of anything around you. Even in this moment of peril, it stung to think of how incredibly disappointed with her he would have been in that instant because here she was ignoring the most perfect noise-making tool she was ever going to find.

She allowed him to drag her to her feet, knocking the chair to the side in order to get a better grip on her body, and during the millisecond her feet were lifted from the ground she used everything she had and his firm chest as leverage to topple the heavy table. There was a split second where everything seemed to freeze, the table with two legs on the ground tipped at a precarious angle and all it held remaining exactly where it should be.

Everything on it fell with it. The metal tray covered in cutlery, plates of food, glass and her reading material of the moment, a book of at least six hundred pages on traditional Japanese kendo techniques. The echoes resounded through the room, rebounding off the walls and ringing in both their heads. Then there was utter silence for so long she began to give up hope that anyone had heard her. That was it, her last desperate bid for attention and she had nothing left to use. Lowering her head in defeat, she felt the sudden tension seep from her captor's body and then it came. The sound of feet thundering down the corridor at great speed filled her ears and it was like heaven. Her heart soared and she dug her bare feet into the carpet, ignoring the friction burns she was receiving for her efforts, anything to slow down his attempts to drag her towards the open window. She had a chance, damn it, and there was no way in hell she was going to make this easy on the asshole now. Then there was nothing, only black.

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Misao stood silently in front of her beloved Aoshi-sama. She had been desperate for him to explain his reasons why she couldn't see Kaoru, for him to deny her accusations of his deception, but he hadn't. Instead he had just stood there, motionless and expressionless, before telling her firmly once again that no one was to go to see Kaoru. Her heart ached. Her deepest doubts had been confirmed, her hero, the Okashira she had not so secretly adored since the age of two, did think she was too weak for the Oniwabanshu. He did think she wasn't good enough to be by his side and in her mind this conclusion could lead to only one heart-breaking reason for his keeping her with him. He pitied her. He let her stay because he knew she had nowhere else and no one else to go to but he would not trust her.

Anger suddenly turned her vision red. She would prove it to him, she would prove that she was strong, that he could be proud of her, and when she did maybe he would notice that she wasn't just the weak little girl he had taken in any more, but a powerful woman. Then, with this realization, he would sweep her off her feet and proclaim passionate love to her. She sighed wistfully, this fantasy serving both to lighten her spirits considerably and strengthen her determination. Aoshi-sama would notice her if it was the last thing she did.

Just as this decision had been made, a huge crash reverberated down the corridor making everyone turn towards its source.

'Kaoru,' Aoshi breathed, not meaning Misao to hear, but the instant her friend's name slipped from his lips, Misao was alert and moving in the direction of the general flow of guards.

'They've breached the building through the West room!'

She heard one guard call frantically to another, and she picked up her pace with an actual destination in mind.

The chance to prove herself to Aoshi had come a lot quicker than she had expected but she wasn't the type to let the opportunity pass. Her energy and agility had its uses, making her responses and reflexes to surprising changes quicker than most and allowing her to slip rapidly through the jostling, frightened crowd. She danced away from him through the throngs of armed and dangerous men who scared her not the tiniest bit. They were just hired muscle, there only to slow the evil creature down, but they would never manage to stop him. She doubted they had the skill to take her on in a fight so they didn't have a prayer against that monster.

She could hear Aoshi calling from behind her but his voice was drowned beneath the sounds of the guards shouting and panicking around her. He was angry, though she could only tell this because of the years spent carefully observing and adoring, from slight inflections in his voice and twitches of his face. Though incredibly fast, he was too tall and broad to be able to slide through the crowd with the swiftness that she did and although he created an instant path before him by the sheer power of his ki, she was still soon far ahead of him.

She could see the door to the West room up ahead and picked up her already impossibly quick pace. Throwing herself against the door to the room, it burst open in time for her to catch sight of Kaoru's limp body being lifted out of the window and a flash of red hair as the man who carried her dropped into the darkness beyond.

Misao was at the window before anyone else had even entered the room. Perching precariously on the windowsill, she leaned out to watch the figure disappear into the distance with the slumped form of her best friend in his arms. An agonized scream of fury bubbled up in her throat and she immediately made to follow when the unmistakably dominant aura of her Okashira entered the room.

'Don't even think about it, Misao,' he thundered as he fought his way through the worried guards milling around.

Yet, instead of having the desired quelling effect, the command only served to strengthen the petite woman's resolve. She would save her friend and she would show her Aoshi-sama that she wasn't a waste of air.

Turning to look at him as he battled his way towards her, she waited until he was just near enough to hear.

'I will prove to you that I'm good enough to be at your side, Aoshi-sama.'

With that she dropped into the abyss.

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The throbbing in Kaoru's temples was a counterpoint to the steady beat of her heart as she slowly came to. She groaned softly, trying desperately to burrow into the warmth and oblivion of unconsciousness. However, sleep was not forthcoming and the sudden flood of memories chased the last remnants of it from her aching head. Dear Kami have mercy, he had finally caught up to her and now she was Kami only knew where with a psychopath. She forced herself to sit up and open her eyes.

'I'm blind,' was her first frantic conclusion as nothing but blackness assaulted her eyes, but it soon became apparent that this was not the case when they slowly adjusted and she could make out slightly darker shadows of objects around the room.

'Pull yourself together, Kamiya. This is no time to lose it,' she ordered herself vehemently.

Unfortunately a small voice at the back of her mind chose this moment to point out that it was a little too late for that. She was already an unstable nervous wreck. Forcing this revelation to one side in favour of more pressing matters, like how exactly she was supposed to get herself out of the clutches of a mass murdering sociopath with a clear obsession for one Kamiya Kaoru, she decided to scope out her surroundings. She had no idea what he wanted from her but there was no way she was sticking around to find out.

She slid off the bed, intent on finding an exit out of her own personal hell, when she was jerked back by her wrist. Now that her eyes had adjusted to the darkness she could see, as she lifted her hand to her face, that her wrist was chained to the headboard of the bed.

'Oh Kami.'

Panic spread within her like fire through dry wood.

'It's just another obstacle, Kamiya,' she told herself aloud, taking a deep, steadying breath before proceeding with an examination of the metal links of the chain.

When she could find no weaknesses she could exploit there she turned her attention to the headboard and it was here that she discovered hope. Although it was beautifully carved with flowers and cherubim, and must at some point have been a very sturdy bed, it was now weakened by rot through years of disuse and damp. Her heart jumped. If she could just pull hard enough she could use the chain and her body weight to splinter the bar of wood round which the chain was fastened and then she'd be free. Of course, she'd still have the chain attached to her wrist but there was no use worrying about that until she'd managed to escape the bed.

She took the chain between both hands and gave it a testing tug. The wood gave a vague creak but didn't budge even slightly. She sighed resignedly, knowing the pain to come, and, twisting her body round so she was facing the headboard, she braced both feet on it and pulled. Her wrist protested at the odd angle it was held across her body and the way she was leaning her weight against the chain but she refused to stop, especially when the bar gave a deep groan and shuddered in its slot. Her hands began to sweat where they gripped the chain and she cried out incoherently with the effort to force the bar to break.

'Come on, damn it.'

She bent so far back that her body was flat against the bed and yet it still held. Tears of frustration welled in her eyes before making watery tracks down her cheeks.

'I refuse to be helpless again,' she shouted fruitlessly at the headboard. 'I refuse to let some pansy ass rotting piece of wood prevent me from getting out of this hellhole.'

The cherub carved on the surface smiled mockingly down at her and she kicked it hard in the face. Her resolve hardened. She stood up on the bed and leaned backwards, her entire weight braced against that one bar of rotting wood. It creaked viciously and leaned towards her weight but still it didn't break.

Her face wet with crying and sweat, she scrunched it up in concentration as her wrist screamed for her to stop, the tightly wound chain cutting into it, causing spots of blood to bloom from the red raw skin, but she couldn't, wouldn't stop now. She was so close she could almost taste the freedom. Leaning back so far she was almost bent double, she heard a sickening crack, the bar giving way under the pressure.

Splinters of wood flew everywhere and her own momentum catapulted her backwards into a somersault off the bed. She landed with a loud crash and lay sprawled there for a moment as her head swam with the impact against the floor. Luckily for her a plush carpet covered the ground or she could have had a nice concussion to match the wounds on her wrist. Pulling at the chain carefully, she hoped it hadn't constricted enough to cut off circulation. It would be pretty hard to practice kendo with only one hand.

Her addled brain caught the sound of running feet outside her room and she realized belatedly that with the noise she had been making it was surprising her captors had not come to check on her sooner. The footsteps were still a distance away and she followed the screeched directions of her mind as she dashed to the darker shadow of what she assumed was the door. Her assumption was confirmed when she burst out onto a long semi-lit corridor. Now which way to go?

'Eeny, meeny, miny…'

'Hey, Missy, what do you think you're doing out of your room?' came a shout from the left as she considered her options.

'Well, I guess it's to the right then.'

She turned to flee in the opposite direction to the voice, but she hadn't gone two steps before she was grasped firmly by the shoulders and spun round. She found herself faced with a broad, muscled chest clad in an open white judo jacket and when she looked up discovered the owner of this splendid display of masculinity wasn't too hard on the eyes either. Wild brown hair flew in all directions, held back from his eyes by a red headband, and the eyes themselves were a deep, melting brown. He wasn't really her type, too boyish around the face, but she could see the objective appeal and couldn't help staring at him. Then somehow the longer she looked the more she found everything about him oddly familiar. Frustratingly, she couldn't quite place him, but all she knew was that the serious expression he was sporting at the moment didn't suit him and she was quite certain that a cocky grin should really be in its place.

'You're gonna get me in a hell of a lot of trouble if you don't get back in that room right now, little Missy,' he said sternly.

There was a slight pause before the guy apparently gave in to temptation.

'I mean, come on, do you really want to see this handsome face all mashed up?'

Immediately the exact roguish grin she'd been picturing in her head spread across his face and she realized where she'd seen him before. She had met him only once in passing when she and Kenshin had been out to lunch at their favourite café. Kenshin had not been pleased, she remembered. He'd hidden it well but the set of his shoulders and slightly forced smile had made it clear to her. At the time she had assumed it was an acquaintance he didn't really like but now it dawned on her that it must be one of his murderous associates. Perhaps they worked together to extinguish human life and Kenshin had been worried he would give his true identity away. Any good feelings she might have felt towards this man instantly dissipated as this thought was processed.

'Don't mind seeing your face mashed as long as I'm the one to do it, pretty boy,' she snarled as she threw a punch at his head with her good hand. He caught it deftly in his own and his forehead creased in a frown.

'Now, that's not very nice, is it?'

He used his grip on her fist to pull her closer to him and she attempted to knee him in the groin but he blocked it with his leg.

'I really would like to be able to populate the world with equally beautiful people, so if you wouldn't mind not kneeing me there it would be much appreciated,' he smirked arrogantly.

She growled low in her throat and while his own showing off distracted him she brought her heel down hard on his foot. He let out a yell and released her fist from his iron grip. She didn't waste any time since she doubted he would let her get the upper hand again and swung the chain she still had firmly wrapped around her wrist at his face. It made contact with a sickening smack of metal on flesh and he went down like a ton of bricks.

Eyes tearing up with the way the chain sliced further into her, she didn't give herself time to stop and take care of it. Instead, she left him in his semi-conscious state on the floor as she flew down the corridor with adrenaline-induced speed.

As she rounded the corner she heard the man groan and curse colourfully behind her, coming to. Her heart raced so hard in her chest she was afraid it might burst right out as she fled down corridor after corridor until she was utterly lost. She could still faintly hear the man behind her but it was a great distance away and that gave her the small sliver of hope she needed to keep going.

Just when that slight hope was fading and panic was winning the battle within her mind she caught sight of a long flight of stairs up ahead, at the bottom of which stood a huge entrance hall. She didn't take the time to admire the scenery, however, as she threw herself down them, her frantic footfalls drowned by the plush red carpet.

Once she was at the bottom she made a dash across the hall, her steps now echoing on the white marble floor. She could have screamed in terrified frustration as she slid to a stop in front of the door. It was covered in at least ten locks and there was no way she was going to be able to pick them all in time even with her immense experience from years of forgetting her keys.

'Breathe, Kamiya,' she told herself sternly.

This was not as easy as it was to think. Her breath came in ragged gasps, clouding her mind, and she suddenly grasped how despite her attempts to keep her conditioning while on the move she had failed. She finally forced herself to take in her surroundings and found several doors around the room. Her body howled at her to run, to run anywhere just as long as it was far away from where she was now. But she restrained the urge to dash around like a headless chicken and instead assessed the situation. Where do most people keep their keys? Well, personally, though she knew it wasn't very safe, she remembered having a nice rack of hooks in her kitchen where she hung all the keys for the various rooms of her house and she knew Misao did too.

Target acquired, she examined the doors and made her way to the most promising of them. It was to the left of the staircase and slightly in its shadow so as not to be overly visible from the entrance and, as opposed to the rest of the doors which were beautifully carved; this one was a simple swinging door, painted a demure white to match the wall. Her observant nature was rewarded when the second she swung it open her eyes fell on a rack of keys hanging on the wall by the stove.

She grabbed the bunch of keys from the hook handily labeled 'Front door' and was back at said front door before the kitchen one managed to swing shut. The task of discovering which key fit which lock was arduous and it was made even worse by the involuntary shaking of her hands as they fumbled the locks. Frustration made her want to scream, but she resisted, afraid she would draw even more attention to her flight. She was terrified that the shaggy haired man would catch up to her and pull her away from her escape, from the freedom beckoning to her just beyond the door.

Finally, she reached the last lock and she nearly cried in relief as it slid back with a delicious thunk. She reached for the door handle and, just as she swung the door open, she was grabbed roughly from behind and thrown hard up against the wall beside the door. She prepared herself mentally for her head to make impact with the wall. If the contact with the floor hadn't given her concussion this certainly would, but instead she felt only the softness of yielding flesh. Opening her eyes, she realized that he had placed his hand behind her head to protect it in a deceptively tender gesture that sent her reeling.

'Do you really give me so little credit as to believe that I would let you escape so easily, Koneko?' he hissed by her ear, and she trembled as the silken steel of his voice rolled over her.

'Do you have any idea what I have been through, Koneko? I tore Tokyo apart to find you and, every time I got close, I would find an empty house filled with your lingering scent, but never you. It drove me insane.'

He leaned in even closer so that his chest was pressed more firmly against hers and his nose skimmed the skin of her neck as he inhaled.

'I do not give up what is mine, Koneko, remember that,' he growled furiously as he ran a hand down her side, ghosting a moment by her breast, before finishing the route down to her waist, where he splayed his hand possessively against her hip. His words rang through her head, dislodging one of the memories she had pushed so far into the depths of her mind that she had hoped it would be lost forever.

_The music beat in time to her heart as she swayed to its rhythm. The intimate press of bodies and the lazy grace with which her lover moved against her made her every limb tingle with anticipation. _

_Kenshin's fingers traced intricate patterns on the skin exposed by her tight top and she leaned even further back against his chest, letting a small sigh escape her lips. She felt rather than heard his growl of approval at this innately submissive gesture and his hands stopped their travels to wrap more securely around her slim waist in an utterly possessive response. _

_While they were dancing this change in her usually docile Kenshin didn't register under the overload of arousing sensations she was feeling, but as they made their way back towards their table, where Misao was still fending off her would-be-suitor, she couldn't help but frown. _

_The conversation she had had earlier that day flashed through her mind but she pushed it away, shaking her head. No, she refused to think that about Kenshin, it was not true. These thoughts were confirmed when Kenshin helped her into her seat with a courtly bow, the goofy smile she loved so much plastered across his face._

'_Sessha will go find us some drinks, that he will.'_

_She watched him walk to the bar, her eyes trained on his delicious behind, before the gyrating crowd swallowed him. Then she turned her attention to Misao, who had finally brushed off her admirer and was now sipping her 'Kiss me quick' with a satisfied smile on her face. _

_Unfortunately for Kaoru, although Misao's admirer seemed to have given up hope on her, it was clear he was all too happy to turn his slightly drunk attentions to Kaoru instead._

'_Hello beautiful, you must be exhausted.' _

_Kaoru frowned slightly in confusion. Was this some lame way to ask her to go to bed with him? He continued, apparently undaunted by her lack of response._

'_´Cause baby, you've been running through my mind all day.' _

_Kaoru caught Misao looking at her over his shoulder and they rolled their eyes. Had this guy not noticed the fact that she had come over with her boyfriend? Apparently not, since he leaned in so close she could smell the alcohol on his breath and appeared to be about to kiss her. Revulsion made her nauseous and she tensed in preparation to give him a beating he wouldn't soon forget, even in his alcohol-induced haze. However, someone else had the same idea, since the man was lifted unceremoniously from his chair and dangled a little off the ground by a firm grip on his throat._

'_How dare you touch my woman,' Kenshin hissed furiously at the gargling man in front of him. 'If you even think of touching her again with those filthy hands, I'll gut you so fast you won't have time to scream.'_

_Kaoru could only sit, dumbfounded, as she watched her gentle Kenshin throttle the man hanging from his grasp before throwing him with almost inhuman strength across the room. The poor drunk crashed hard into a nearby table, knocking the empty glasses on it flying as he did so. _

'_Ken…shin,' she gasped as he made to follow the man, who was now whimpering and attempting to crawl into the crowd. She grasped his arm tightly and suddenly found herself enveloped in an equally tight embrace._

'_I do not give up what is mine, Koneko, remember that,' he growled by her ear, before leaning back to capture her lips with his own in an almost desperate kiss. _

_His eyes glowed a terrifying amber colour and, as she looked into them, there was no doubt in her mind in that moment that the poor man now disappearing at great speed into the crowd, would be dead if she hadn't intervened._

Those same amber eyes she remembered so vividly from that night now stared into her own blue gaze and she had to force herself not to look away in submission. It was like dealing with a wild animal, show any signs of weakness and they would tear you apart.

However, their silent battle of wills was brought to an end when an odd dripping noise caught both their attentions. Looking down, she saw that blood was trickling from beneath the chain on her wrist down to her hands and onto the pristine whiteness of the marble floor. She was surprised. She hadn't noticed how much it hurt until now. The chain had dug so deeply into her that it had left the tips of her fingers tingling and cut into her flesh. She jumped as a strangled noise slipped from his lips, for a split second something childlike and terrified flashing through his eyes, but it was so rapid she couldn't truly be sure of what she'd seen.

Without warning, she was lifted, bridal style, and carried back through the kitchen door. For a moment she froze, too shocked to do anything, but then she began to struggle viciously, practically doing a headstand off his arm onto the floor, the only thing stopping her from falling the iron grip with which she was held, hard and unyielding.

She was carefully set down on one of the high stools at the grey marble counter in the center of the room before he began to rummage through drawers in search of something. Eyeing the door, she knew with a sad certainty that there was no way in hell she was going to manage to get back to the front before him, so instead she contented herself with looking for a weapon to defend herself with.

Her eyes fell on a knife block handily placed within her reach and she slowly grasped one of the smaller knives, stuffing it in the pouch on the front of her sweater. She praised Kami that she was a tomboy who hardly ever wore tight clothing since it would have been impossible to conceal anything then. She steadied the blade handle carefully with her good hand as he turned towards her, a white box in his grip.

Coming to sit beside her, he removed a thin gold necklace from beneath his black shirt, using the key hung on it to unlock the chain on her wrist. It dropped to the floor with a resounding thwack, but neither of them paid any attention to it. Her skin was marred by raw indents from the chain's links and despite its blunt edges there must have been some sharp areas because in places it had sliced straight through. He opened the box and she was startled to find it contained, not some kind of torture device as the irrational part of her brain kept informing her it must, but a very complete medical kit. Taking an ointment from the box, he carefully grasped her arm above her wrist and began rubbing it into the deep gashes she had managed to inflict on herself.

'I should have known a chain would not keep you contained, Koneko,' he chuckled, and she couldn't help noting the hint of pride that entered his voice. 'You always were stubborn.'

She ignored him and his deep voice, preferring instead to concentrate on the slight stinging sensation of the cream as he made sure it was all absorbed. He then took a roll of clean white bandages from the box and began to wrap the wounds tightly. She winced and he gentled his touch in a way that made her frown. Why was he so gentle with her, damn it? The way he'd stalked her told her she obviously fascinated him, but she also knew that she was just a toy to him, that once he had got whatever it was out of his system, he'd get bored and she didn't want to think about what would happen then, so he shouldn't act like this, shouldn't care.

While she was absorbed by her confusing thoughts he finished dressing her injury and put away the box. She was so distracted she completely forgot her plan to stab him and run for the door. The knife lay in her pouch as she stared at him, her hands limp at her sides.

'Megumi will take a better look at this when she comes over later,' he informed her as he grabbed her elbow and half helped, half lifted her from her seat. 'Time to go back to your room, I think.'

Once again to her surprise, he did not bring the chain to reattach her to the bed. Instead he simply ignored it and tried to lead her to the door. When the attempt failed and she stood firm, a look of mulishness on her face, he commenced dragging her back through to the entrance hall and up the stairs. She dug her feet in, trying and failing to make his efforts harder. He didn't seem to find her struggles even a tiny hindrance to his progress and this just made her temper flare even further.

She opened her mouth to swear at him but at that moment the red head-banded man came hurtling down towards them, a large bruise already spoiling one side of his face and split lip trickling blood down his chin.

'You're a bit late, Sano,' he said in a cold voice that belied the hint of amusement hidden beneath. 'You appear to have come across my Koneko before me, however.'

Sano scowled and winced as his lip gave a painful twinge when he pouted.

'Do you see what she did to my face, man? Now Megumi's never gonna fall for me.'

He snorted as he led Kaoru the rest of the way upstairs.

'Perhaps this will teach you not to underestimate your opponent, Sanosuke,' he informed Sano, no longer hiding the amusement in his voice.

With that said, he dragged Kaoru around the corner, ignoring the childish cursing that followed them.

The walk to her room was done in silence after that. She was so caught up in her own self-pity and anger at being so close and yet so far from freedom that she paid no attention to their journey until she was pushed rather unceremoniously into her room.

His eyes scanned the damage to it as he stood in the doorway, taking in the splintered wood on the floor and the mutilated headboard, before he closed the door behind her.

The clicking of the lock as it slid into place rang through her head with a tone of finality. Kaoru was once again trapped in her dark bedroom, her morbid thoughts her only company as his footsteps faded away.

'Why are you doing this to me, Kenshin?' She choked out to the empty room.

**Author's note:** Review please

Japanese terms:

Kami- God

Koneko- Kitten

Sama- Very polite honorific

Sessha- Unworthy one


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note:** Ok people, here is chapter three. If there are any problems with it let me know. My favourite beta reader, thealchemist'sdaughter, is stuck on holiday somewhere with no internet (Oh the horror!) so I haven't been able to receive her valuable insight. So this just means I need you guys all the more.

If we're lucky, I might get chapter four out before I need to start panicking for my exams. But I'm afraid I'm under strict orders from my parents that my exams come first and fanfiction second. I disagree, as I'm sure a lot of you do too, but hey, these are the people who give me money and food. Their word is law. Hope you enjoy and please don't forget to review!

**Chapter Three**

Aoshi clutched the windowsill in a death grip, just retaining enough self-control not to follow Misao and drag her back to the safety of his embrace. His instincts screamed to give chase, that she was in danger, that he needed her in his sight. Yet, although his aggravation was increasing with each passing second, none of it showed on his face. His expression was still a perfect blank, but it was a brittle mask, and hairline cracks were beginning to spread across it the further Misao moved from him.

'Inform me again, Hannya, why you think it unwise to bring Misao back now.'

His voice was just slightly raw as though he were holding himself back from shouting and as he turned to look at Hannya there was something intangibly pained in his carefully guarded air.

'She would not take kindly to it, Aoshi-sama,' Hannya said in his cautiously reasonable voice. 'She is young and insecure. She will take it as another insult to her abilities and we may well lose her for good.'

Aoshi could see the indisputable logic of what his second was saying, but somehow it didn't ease the cloying nausea that was churning his stomach at the thought of Misao chasing after what she did not yet understand. It wasn't helped by the fact that he knew perfectly well that when Hannya said _we_ he meant him. The masked man was anything but stupid. He understood perfectly his Okashira's feelings for the young woman they all cherished so much. He also understood that Aoshi had over the years painstakingly built brick by brick a near impenetrable fortress around his soul, protecting himself from the pain and loss the life of a spy inevitably entailed, but also blinding him to the returned love of the woman his cold heart melted for.

'You may go, Hannya,' Aoshi said tonelessly, turning from him to contemplate the darkened view outside the window once again.

The mysterious man inclined his head respectfully and retreated, giving his leader the chance to release some of the iron grip he had on his control. Slamming his hand down on the sill, Aoshi reveled in the needles of pain that rippled through his fist. How had his carefully formulated plan gone so hideously wrong? He had prepared for every eventuality, yet somehow he had managed to missed this one and he couldn't understand how. Of course, the fiercely loyal little ninja would do anything to protect her friend even to the point of throwing herself in the middle of a conflict she could never possibly grasp. Despite how frustrating he found it, it was still one of the traits he had always loved about her.

"It's because you didn't trust her," a little voice in his head informed him brutally. "Maybe if you'd explained to her your plan to protect Kaoru she wouldn't have run off to save her and put herself in such danger. Now if you try to get her back you'll lose her but if you leave her out there you might well lose her anyway. This is all your fault and if Misao is hurt or killed you are solely to blame."

Aoshi clenched his jaw, the only visible sign he normally gave of distress. If anything happened to Misao he would never forgive himself, and Kami help the person who harmed her.

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Kaoru screamed loudly, swinging the broken piece of headboard viciously at the imaginary adversaries around her. She ignored the splinters that were embedding themselves painfully in her fingers and palms. They were a relief, a distraction from her own mental anguish. She needed this release if she was going to think rationally about her situation and, more importantly, how to get out of it. If she was being honest with herself though, it was also the eerie hush that fell over the room each time she paused between strokes, ever more insistent tendrils of fear prodding at the back of her mind.

Relaxing into position, she sighed sadly, missing the feel of polished hard wood floor beneath her feet as she ducked and slashed at the air. She could not slide into her stances the way she could in the dojo, her movements inhibited by the carpet beneath her feet trying constantly to trip her with its threads. She knew it was important to be able to do her kata under any situation but it made her want to cry in frustration as it broke her concentration again and again.

She gave a particularly furious swing, misjudging her distance from the bed and slamming the piece of wood into the footboard. The bar splintered to join the rest of the remains on the floor, and the impact jarred all the way up her arms, sending shooting pains along her muscles and causing her wounded wrist to twinge in protest.

Shouting incoherent curses to the empty room, she threw what was left of the wood still held in her hand against the wall before slumping gracelessly onto the bed.

When she had been left in the bedroom, alone and scared out of her mind, she was appalled to admit she had very nearly broken down. Her entire body had trembled from head to toe and she had no longer been able to think clearly through the mind numbing terror that had engulfed her. She was in the middle of nowhere with an obsessive, serial killing sociopath who was now on his guard for her escape attempts, her only weapon a kitchen knife hidden beneath her pillow, and, even if by some miracle she could manage to get out of the building, she would still have no idea where the heck she was since the only glimpse she had got through the front door before she had been yanked away had shown her a lot of green which the city of Tokyo most definitely did not possess. She doubted the situation could actually become any more dire.

"Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore," had been her first thought as she'd considered what she'd seen for that millisecond. Worryingly, this barely witty remark had sent her into a fit of hysterical giggles which had escalated into sobbing, as she tried in vain to recapture her sanity.

Damn it, why was this happening to her? Why did she have to be the one, out of the millions of women in Tokyo, to come across and capture the interest of a mentally unstable mercenary for hire?

_The music thrummed in her ears like a second heartbeat as she walked. Her hood obscured her face from other pedestrians, getting her many an amusingly wary look as they passed her by._

_People were just so narrow-minded. They saw a person in a hoody and it always equaled a thug, even if she was a girl of five foot, two inches height who could crawl through her parents' tiny basement window at the age of seventeen. These people would never have guessed that she was a billionaire heiress, a young woman who could buy everything they owned and their lives twice over should she feel the urge. Not that she ever would. Her wealth was tainted, disgusting blood money earned through the creation of weapons for warlords to murder innocent people. She felt a scowl spread across her face, darkening her features even further and making the people around her shoot her ever more cautious glances. _

_Her father had run one of the most powerful arms companies in the world, selling millions of dollars' worth of weaponry a day. Kaoru still didn't blame him for his business, she was simply disappointed that a man who had created a sword style to protect rather than kill had helped fill the world with even more horrendous and destructive ways to murder and pillage. _

_Despite his work, her father had been a great man. She had loved him with a force that had filled her soul, soothing the feelings of loss that had come with her mother's death when she was twelve. He had been the one to teach her kendo and unwittingly give her her passion in life. _

_When he had died in a car accident half a year ago her heart had shattered, leaving a bloody broken mess in its wake. Yet, even though his will said his greatest wish was for his company to thrive and expand, she had not been able to force herself into the role of cold hearted businesswoman willing to do anything to advance her goal. Instead she had handed the control of the company to his business partner, Takeda Kanryu, so that he could carry out her father's wishes. _

_The guilt was still with her now, that her love wasn't strong enough for her to sacrifice her principles for her father. She had managed to lessen this guilt only by teaching his sword style to the new generation, hoping that, perhaps, she could pass on a little piece of her father to the children she taught, making sure that he was never truly forgotten._

_So here she was, walking home from a job as a replacement shihandai for a fellow dojo while its own teacher was on sick leave with flu. She ran her own place not far away, and it was not unusual for her to help out others when they needed it._

_She rounded a corner into a side street she often used as a shortcut home. It was dark, the lamps that had lit the main streets no longer present, and the only light coming from the cracks beneath the side doors of bars and clubs. It gave the alley a creepy air, as shadows seemed to shift and change shape with the movements inside. Kaoru didn't mind it, however, since she had walked down here a million times before without incident. Consequently, she hitched her heavy rucksack higher on her shoulder and continued onwards without hesitation. _

_It was not a noise which attracted her attention since her headphones still drummed a heavy beat into her ears, but some sixth sense that moved her to the side just as a bottle broke against the wall where her head had been moments before._

_She swiveled round in time to receive a blow to the side of the face that sent her reeling and knocked her earphones from her ears. If her skill as a fighter had not allowed her to instinctively roll with it she would have been out cold._

'_Son of a…'_

_She spat a mouthful of blood on the floor, dodging a second attempt to take her out. The punch was messy and the assailant had put his entire body behind it, forcing him to follow through with the move even after she had slid out of range. The fist connected with the wall with a sickening sound of breaking bone, and the scream of agony that followed bounced around the enclosed space over and over again. _

_She didn't give herself time to think on it, however, as she brought her knee viciously up into the man's face where he had doubled over, cradling his hand to his body. For the second time in under a minute, the sound of bone shattering filled the air and the man went down and stayed there, whimpering softly._

_On pure reflex she swung her rucksack round, using her own momentum to give it force and, catching the second man in the face. He stumbled sideways into a set of metal dustbins. _

_He managed to catch himself before toppling with them to the ground but, taking advantage of his lack of balance, she brought her foot down against his kneecap, making him howl in pain and collapse backwards against the opposite wall. His head connected with a painful thunk and he lay still. _

_Her final assailant then caught her attention as he moved forwards from his spot leaning nonchalantly against the wall. He was bulkier than the other two and, even as she fought, she knew that there was no way she could take this one on._

_She kicked out, trying to catch him in the chest, but he had learnt from the fates of his companions and caught it deftly in his hands, twisting it at an angle that made light pop behind her eyes. She screamed in anguish as he used it to tug her against his sweat pungent body. She fell forwards and was instantly grasped around the throat as he lifted her from the ground. Grappling at his wrist, trying to get some kind of hold, she gargled incoherently._

'_So you think you can blow me off and not face the consequences, bitch,' he spat furiously, and she instantly recognised the voice._

_Gohei. The idiot had offered to marry her right after her father's death in the hopes that, in her state of vulnerability, he could get his hands on her dojo and her money. Fury lanced through her and turned her vision red. He was trying to kill her for hurt pride? She began to struggle savagely, letting go of his wrist with one hand to claw at his face. _

_He swore and loosened his grip as she drew blood and for a second let her gasp a mouthful of air before tightening it further, closing off her windpipe entirely. Her sight began to blur and suddenly she couldn't seem to raise the energy to even keep her hold on the hand around her throat. Fuzzily, she realised this was it, she was dead. _

_Suddenly, she was on the ground gasping for precious, life giving air. Her mind was not even able to process her being alive, let alone that she was on the floor and that her butt hurt like hell. _

_Finally, with considerable exertion, she managed to lift her eyes to take in her surroundings, and the scene before her stole her breath again. Gohei was on his knees at the feet of a man with blood red hair tied neatly at the nape of his neck. He had Gohei firmly by his own dirt brown hair, but it was clear that although any movement on Gohei's part would cause him pain, the other man was delivering none. Her blood was pumping so hard in her ears that it was an effort to catch his words, but, from the snatches she gathered, it appeared that Gohei was being given a lecture on manners._

'_Sessha thinks it unwise for you to continue hurting the woman, that he does,' the strange man was informing Gohei calmly. 'A man should never hit a woman, it is not nice, that it is not.'_

_To her surprise Gohei nodded fervently, despite the pain it caused him, the action seeming to satisfy the other man since he ended his lecture and released the sniveling wretch's hair. Gohei didn't appear to need any further encouragement, forsaking his two injured companions in his rush to leave the alley. That or perhaps he simply didn't care about them. _

_She watched him scuttle away with a dazed expression. She had never seen the man act that way before. His arrogance and aggression were legendary, and for him to turn tail and run was a sight she had never thought she would see._

'_Is Yosomono-dono alright?' A voice asked seriously, and she looked up into the most beautiful violet eyes she had ever seen._

The memory had brought a flood of pain and anger that had drowned out her fear. She had continued to tremble but this time out of pure rage. She should have been suspicious. Seeing a man like Gohei run like a terrified child from Kenshin should have set alarm bells clanging in her head, but instead she had pushed the worry aside because she had been so grateful to him for saving her and now she had gone from the frying pan and into the fire. Why did she always have to be the helpless one? Why did her life always have to suck? She had grasped the first piece of reasonably bokken shaped wood and taken out her frustrations on thin air.

The anger had petered out though and, as she lay on the bed trying to grasp at its ephemeral strands, the terror began to return tenfold. The room suddenly became very still, excepting her own heavy breathing only serving to give the lack of noise an even spookier quality. That and the darkness she had not sought to remove by turning on the lights, too engulfed in her fear and rage, now seemed to make the room close in on her, taking away her ability to function.

She curled into a ball on the bed, too afraid to move let alone get up and turn on the lights. Her life was so screwed up, and the harder she struggled to fix it the further down into the darkness she was pulled.

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Battousai paced up and down the office, his head down so that his fiery bangs obscured his eyes and the tension in his shoulders so tight that it must have been painful.

Megumi couldn't help marveling at the fact that the carpet had not been worn through as she followed his progress across the room.

She sat in a comfortable red leather armchair, the epitome of elegance at leisure, her long legs crossed and her hands neatly folded in her lap, studiously ignoring Sano's none too subtle attempts to attract her attention. She wondered how he had got the angry bruises on his face, her doctor's fingers tingling to soothe what she knew must hurt like hell, but she resisted. He deserved what he got and whoever had given them to him should receive, if not a medal, then at least some thanks.

'If you have called me all the way out here from headquarters to watch you walk up and down you're office, Ken-san, I may have to treat you to a tasty dose of arsenic.'

Her snappy remark was meant solely to draw his attention, but the tactic worked a little too well for Megumi's comfort. Battousai stopped pacing and turned vicious molten amber eyes towards her. For a split second she was sure he was contemplating whether it was worth the grief he would get if he killed her, but after a tense silence he resumed his earlier motions only to stop almost immediately and slam his fist into the wall.

'What can I do?'

His voice was a bass growl that rang with suppressed pain.

Megumi smoothed her skirt to hide how her hands trembled as she forced herself to sound nonchalant, despite the fact that her instincts were screaming at her to get as far away from the man in front of her as humanly possible.

'What can you do about what, Ken-san?' She murmured.

'She looks at me like I'm a monster, something disgusting, and the fear in her eyes is killing me. I don't deserve her, but damn it, I'm too weak to let her go.'

Megumi sat for a moment in stunned silence. Were men really this dense? Her incredulity overrode her dread of the man and before she could think better of it she was speaking.

'Let me get this straight.'

She daintily pushed a strand of hair that had escaped from her bun back behind her ear.

'You're wondering why a woman, who you stalked, chained to a bed and have now locked in a room with no windows, is looking at you with fear and loathing?'

She regretted the words the second they escaped her mouth as her chair was suddenly catapulted back against the wall, a furious red haired man leaning over her, his hands on either side of her head.

'Did you expect me to leave her for him to take, Megumi? If I do not keep her here she will die, and I will not let that happen,' he snarled, his face twisted into something terrifying.

'Kenshin, man, she's right. You're not gonna win Kaoru back by locking her up. Women must be wooed.'

Megumi could have kissed Sano at that moment as he drew the furious assassin's attention away from her with his semi-serious remark. Battousai appeared to consider his words, turning away from Megumi to focus on the other man.

'What would you suggest I do?' he asked, the idea of wooing his Koneko obviously appealing to him.

However, Sano apparently hadn't thought any further ahead, simply shrugging and slouching deeper into his armchair.

'Man, I'm not doing all the thinking for you. Work it out yourself.'

'How about taking her on a tour of the house after I look over her injury? It'll make her feel more comfortable at least,' Megumi put in hastily, fearing that Battousai's response to Sano's flippant comment would be to decapitate the cocky fighter.

He nodded thoughtfully before turning to leave the room.

'Very well, I will go and get my Koneko.'

After he had left, Sano leaned forwards in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked at Megumi, and for once in his life he was actually serious.

'Don't provoke Kenshin right now, Fox, he's on the edge and it won't take much to make him fall.'

Megumi reached for her medical bag with shaking hands. Didn't she just know it.

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'I can't breathe.'

She coiled up tighter until it felt as though her spine might snap with the angle and her entire body shook with the force of her fear. Biting down hard on her lip, bile rose in her throat at the thought of living this way any longer. The darkness was swallowing her whole and it was never going to end.

'Koneko, it's time to look at your wounds.'

His voice was soft as though he feared he was waking her. If only that were true, if only she could wake up and find that her life was all some bizarre and horrible nightmare. The worst thing was even though she knew what he was, what he had done, she still couldn't help but take comfort from his presence and his scent. He drove her nightmares away and replaced them with new ones. She hated herself but, damn it, she couldn't help but love him and that realization scared her even more than the emptiness or the silence.

'Kaoru?'

His voice suddenly held some of that old tender concern her beloved Kenshin's used to have and she could almost hear the 'dono' at the end of her name.

Without warning the tears welled in her eyes and she shook more violently still. She hadn't been able to give up her principles for her father, but for this man… If he pushed hard enough she might just crack and the self-loathing which would follow would undoubtedly destroy her.

She felt a hand touch her arm and jumped sky high despite knowing perfectly well who it was, perhaps because she knew perfectly well who it was.

'Come, Koneko, Megumi will look at your wrist.'

It was a command and her entire being balked at obeying, but she had no choice. She stood and took unsteady steps towards the glow from the door. How ironic that it should be Battousai that showed her the light.

He was at her elbow steadying her, a frown drawing his eyebrows down. Unthinkingly, she slapped his hand away, unable to stand the unspoken affection in the contact.

'Don't you dare push me away,' he growled, instead encircling her waist with his arm and drawing her body flush against his own. 'You are mine, Koneko.'

Bristling, she turned to look at him, narrowing her eyes at the sheer conceit of the man. Suddenly, she wished it hadn't been his hand she'd slapped.

'I am no one's possession Battousai and most definitely not yours,' she warned evenly.

Yet, though she despised herself for it, she didn't pull away, too weak-willed to give up the comfort his close presence provided. She could almost imagine it was her Kenshin, her Kenshin that was a lie and never existed.

He ignored her words, but seemed to take her staying put as a sign of submission, tightening his arm around her and nudging her through the door and down the corridor. Something between a smile and smirk played across his lips and she had the urge to force him away just to wipe it off. Instead, resigned to the fact that he probably wouldn't release her now anyway, she merely crossed her arms protectively over her chest, happy with even that small barrier between them, and sighed wearily.

The journey was once again done in silence, and she was too absorbed in holding herself back from leaning into his warmth to notice when they reached the top of the main stairs and started to make their way down.

She only managed to pull herself from her stupor through sheer curiosity when Battousai opened one of the beautifully carved doors she had noticed earlier during her botched escape attempt. To her surprise, it led to a well-lit, cosy office. A desk made of some heavy, dark wood dominated the main section, the wall behind lined with thick, mysteriously untitled bound volumes. Once again the carpet was plush beneath her bare feet and she couldn't help observing the way the colour matched perfectly not only the worn red leather armchairs at the other end of the room, but, strangely, Battousai's hair. Biting her lip, she stifled a slightly hysterical giggle at the thought of the Battousai choosing his décor to match his undeniably attractive locks.

Too busy at first perusing this stately sophistication, she only then noticed the elegantly dressed, bored looking lady sitting behind the desk, an array of medical equipment laid out before her. Hesitant, Kaoru resisted as Battousai towed her over to the stool placed beside her, scowling at the way he trailed his fingers up her arm as he stepped back. The thought that he might miss that one insignificant touch as much as she did, made her heartbeat pick up and she viciously hammered both the feeling and the idea away, reminding herself that he was a monster who could not feel and whom she could not feel for.

'So, Miss Kamiya, let me see your injury,' the woman said with that calm authority only doctors possessed, leaning forwards in her desk chair to get a better look.

Kaoru immediately balked. She had no idea who this woman was and, looking at the tools laid out on the desk and in the open doctor's bag beside it, she was not about to trust this person.

Raising her eyebrow, the lady waited patiently. Unfortunately for her, Kaoru was even more stubborn than she was and remained silent, unmoving, eyes trained on her own.

'Perhaps I should introduce myself then, my name is Megumi Takani.'

She reached a hand out and Kaoru, without thinking, took it. Her father had so ingrained proper manners into her that it was an automatic response. She rapidly realised her mistake as Megumi grasped her hand firmly and turned it over to look at the bandages on her wrist, a triumphant smile lighting her face.

Glowering, Kaoru tried to pull her hand away, wincing in pain as Megumi tightened her grip. The doctor had apparently not noticed the blistered and splinter filled state of her hands, since it was only at Kaoru's look that she took closer notice of her wounds.

She was not the only one who had observed Kaoru's response to her touch, however, and Battousai's warning growl reverberated round the room, making the already pale doctor go almost ashen. Kaoru felt a stab of sympathy for the poor woman, immediately feeling more comfortable with her.

'Koneko, what have you done to your hands?'

She didn't look up at him, preferring to concentrate on the doctor's careful treatment of her blisters and cuts while she responded.

'I was practicing and, since I don't have my bokken, I was using my headboard.'

The sound of delighted laughter made her swivel round in her seat, jolting free of Megumi's cautious ministrations and making the beautiful physician mutter darkly. For the first time she realised there was someone else in the room. The red head-banded man was lounging in the doorway, a grin spread across his face from ear to ear. It made him look much like a mischievous schoolboy who had just pulled off a great prank.

'I had heard rumours of you redecorating your room, Jou-chan. So the headboard was more use as a bokken, heh? You do realise it was over a hundred years old and a priceless heirloom?'

Kaoru's jaw went slack, a ridiculous sense of guilt overwhelming her for a moment, before she shook it off and simply glared at him, not deigning to respond to his remark. She was distracted, though, as Megumi pressed down on a particularly tender sore right in the center of her palm. She let out an involuntary yelp and Battousai was beside her in a second.

'If you cause her pain again, Megumi…' he trailed off threateningly.

He didn't need to continue. Everyone understood perfectly well without him spelling it out.

Kaoru saw a flash of temper slide through the doctor's eyes, but she didn't respond, just continuing to work on Kaoru's injuries, a fine tremor in her hands the only sign of her fear. The Battousai seemed satisfied with her silent submission since he went over to the other man and began a quiet discussion Kaoru couldn't quite catch.

Waiting a moment until she was sure that the men were absorbed in their talk, she turned her attention to the other woman, leaning forwards so that she could whisper and still be heard.

'If they are forcing you to help them, Doctor, you can still get out. Help me and I will help you escape them, I promise.'

Megumi looked up at her in surprise before a small smile spread across her face. Kaoru returned it hopefully.

'What makes you think that I'm being forced to do anything against my will? I am the chief doctor for the Ishin Shishi and I'm proud of it.'

Kaoru's good feelings for Megumi faded instantly to nothing, smile falling away and queasiness overcoming her as her stomach dropped. Proud? How could this woman be proud to work for an organisation that took money in return for killing innocent people? Anger sparked within her chest and spread through her until she shook with the force.

'Why would they need healers when their aim is murder? Did you not take the Hippocratic oath, Doctor?' she hissed as quietly as she could manage, but it seemed not quietly enough since the others heard, a stillness falling so far over the room that the only sound was the ticking of a clock she could not see.

It continued for what seemed like hours, Kaoru refusing to be intimidated by the beautiful physician's hard stare and stony silence, holding her gaze with an equally hostile one of her own.

Finally, Megumi was forced to look away first to carry on her work, but her demeanour changed. She was less careful with her wounds almost to the extent of becoming rough, and Kaoru was forced on several occasions to bite her tongue to keep her face from contracting into a wince for fear of drawing Battousai's attention. She refused to have this woman's death on her conscience and she had no doubt that if she showed any signs of the pain she was enduring, no one would be seeing this doctor alive again.

Instead, she took her revenge by making the healer's job as difficult as possible, slumping back in her chair so that Megumi had to lean forwards at an uncomfortable angle to reach her wrist and moving it at inconvenient moments when the doctor was trying to do something finicky like dripping a foul smelling, stinging solution directly into a thin gash. Granted this caused her even more pain, but it was worth it to see the woman, who she was sure usually maintained an air of sophisticated serenity, fight the urge to tear out either her own or Kaoru's hair.

After a lot more time than should have been necessary for a simple disinfect and bandage treatment, it was done, and Kaoru had both hands and one wrist neatly bandaged. She looked much like a fist fighter prepared for her next scrap which amused the red head-banded idiot to no end.

'You look like you're gonna get in the ring and kick someone's ass,' he laughed loudly, nearly toppling out of his chair he found it so funny.

'Well, I did manage to kick your ass so it shouldn't be that funny or are you asking for a rematch?'

She eyed his bruised face and split lip conspicuously and heard what sounded suspiciously like a snigger hidden behind a cough from the doctor beside her. Sano pouted playfully at her, putting his hand over his heart.

'You wound my pride in front of my lady, Jou-chan. How cold hearted.'

She tried not to smile at him, but evidently failed miserably since a broad grin replaced the sulk and he winked at her cheekily. A chuckle bubbled from her and she shook her head at his antics, so distracted by the silly man, she was caught off guard by Battousai's actions. A sound somewhere between a chainsaw starting and a dog snarling made her start. Looking away from the head-banded idiot, she suddenly found herself yanked from the stool and pressed firmly against a furious red head's chest, his arms wrapped around her so tightly it almost hurt. Oddly, it reminded her in a way of how her Kenshin had held her, a sick facsimile of the safe, sheltering embrace of her fictional love. She knew she should have been prepared for this sort of reaction from him, considering how he'd been acting for a while now, but it still shocked her. It was so hard to reconcile this wild, possessive creature with the calm, serene Kenshin he so resembled. She jerked back both from the memory and his hold, struggling between the need to melt against him and beat him to death.

Grinding his teeth, Battousai trapped her chin in his hand, forcing her to tilt her head the couple of inches to look up at him. The intensity of his gaze made her feel as though she were being licked by scorching flames, tingling along every nerve ending as she watched with saucer-sized eyes the way he dipped towards hers. She was, ironically, frozen in place, only a soft noise of distress escaping her, before his lips met hers and the world dropped away.

There was no gentleness, only fervency and need. Biting down lightly on her lower lip, he pulled her impossibly closer, taking control of the kiss as he angled her face the way he wanted and proved to her without any shadow of a doubt that she definitely didn't want any man but him. She barely had time to breathe, his mouth creating an insistent, unforgiving dance of softness and pressure and the light stubble of his jaw brushing in a way that was sinfully tantalising. He ran his hand down her throat and over her collarbone to press against her rapidly beating heart and she gasped…

A noise seemed to draw Battousai's attention away and, dazed, she followed his glare to Sano, reclining leisurely in one of the armchairs, legs over one arm and hands thrown nonchalantly behind his head.

'Much as I'm enjoying the show, man, weren't you gonna do something else with her first?'

A muffled rumble sounded from within Battousai's chest and, before she had managed to gather even the simplest thought together, she found herself halfway across the hall with an only mildly calmer Battousai.

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Sano released a low whistle, watching the door slam shut behind the couple. There was a moment of silence, Megumi clearly waiting patiently for what she knew was to come. Not wanting to disappoint, he twisted in his seat, dropping his feet to the floor and gazing at her with a suggestively raised eyebrow. When she continued to look at him quietly, arms crossed over her chest, he grinned nonchalantly and stretched.

'Man, oh man. What I wouldn't give for a piece of some action like that,' he sighed wistfully, darting his eyes towards her as he slouched further down in his armchair.

Rolling her eyes, the doctor stood, pausing to brush the creases from her black pencil skirt before beginning to collect her equipment.

'In your dreams, Tori-Atama. Some of us have standards,' she quipped, placing each implement carefully in its slot.

Snorting, Sano rocked to his feet and came to sit on the edge of the desk, snatching a pointy metal thing from amidst the many other pointy metal things in her bag.

'Who said I was talking about you, Kitsune? Some of us have standards,' he threw back at her, grinning wickedly as he avoided her grab for the implement.

He enjoyed teasing her, watching the crisp, efficient façade drop away to reveal the blaze beneath. She was the most pedantic, severe, wildly infuriating woman he had ever come across, the opposite of him in every possible way, and he wanted her with a drive that still blew him away.

He'd never been a one-woman kind of man, content to play the field and take pleasure wherever and whenever pleasure could be found. Basically, he'd been a bit of a man-whore and happy about it, mocking his red haired friend when he had fallen so fantastically for the stubborn little kendo instructor he was now failing equally spectacularly to woo. Thus, when he himself had come across a woman that made his mouth dry and his stomach somersault, he'd called it indigestion and walked away. It had taken him months of flirtatious banter, of seeing her almost daily to recognise, accept, what was happening to him and only then because he could no longer ignore the way he unconsciously sought out her face in a crowded room or the fact he hadn't so much as touched another woman since their meeting.

Sadly, the doctor herself didn't seem to believe this. Sanosuke Sagara had become a legend among his colleagues for his ever more salacious sexual escapades, rumours flying rampant about the partners and numbers. Unfortunately, he could not help admitting that some of this gossip was true, but some was just chatter twisted through Chinese whispers into incredible, almost farcical stories. For years he had allowed it to grow until now that he wanted to kill it, it had come to be such a many-headed beast that to slice off one head only created three more.

'Whatever, Sanosuke, but for my sake please don't mess with the Battousai's woman,' she grouched, lunging for the piece of equipment the exasperating man held just beyond her reach.

'Aw, Kitsune, you worried about losing me?' He waggled his eyebrows. 'You know all you have to do is make an honest man out of me.'

Megumi did her impression of hooting with laughter, amounting more to a sarcastic snigger.

'Please! You couldn't keep it in your pants if you tried, let alone if we became an item. Anyway, I meant if you keep flirting with our dear red head's annoying, ugly little woman, I'm going to have a lot of paperwork I don't need on how you met your untimely and painful demise, so think of my social life and don't.'

He blinked at her, surprised by the frank outburst, and she took the opportunity to seize the instrument from his slack grasp and slip it into its allotted position. Briskly snapping the clasp shut, she began to march round the desk to get to the door.

'Are you jealous, Megumi?' Sano asked.

Huffing a laugh, she flicked her hair back over her shoulder in a casual movement belied by the practiced way it was done.

'Why would I be jealous of an unpleasant, Tanuki-faced thing like her?' She bit back scornfully, flouncing towards the exit a little too quickly than necessary.

She gasped as a firm hand grasped her arm, forcing her to stop. Turning reluctantly to look back, she found him gazing down at her with an expression she had never seen before. The only word to describe it was serious.

'You know perfectly well if you even crooked a finger, I'd come running, Meg,' he said, all joking gone from his tone.

Giggling nervously, she brushed his hand away and made a show of rolling her eyes again.

'How many women have you got with that line, Tori-Atama?'

Carefully avoiding eye contact, she gripped her doctor's bag more tightly and left.

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Running a hand over his already tousled hair, Battousai turned away from her and seemed to be taking several steadying breaths. In the time it took him to do this, though, Kaoru too had recovered her faculties, the enormity of what she had just done hitting her like a ten ton truck. Disgust and mortification mingled, inventing an entirely new emotion to tear her insides apart. How could she? How could she feel something so powerful for a man who by all rights should have made her cringe in revulsion and fear?

They stood in complete silence for several minutes until finally Battousai turned to look at her. Fully expecting to be once again grabbed and towed back to her room to be locked away and engulfed by the horrors within, she just stood there in surprise when he waved a hand towards the kitchen door and walked away.

'This is the kitchen,' he stated gruffly, waving his hand aimlessly. 'You can find the food and… well the cooking stuff in here.'

She stood there dumbfounded, before blurting out the first thing that came into her head.

'What the hell are you doing?'

Battousai stopped midway through a demonstration of how the stove worked and looked at her as though she were stupid.

'I am showing you the house,' he said simply, before continuing with his guided tour of the kitchen and its utensils.

Next, they entered a luxuriously decorated dining room through the carved door nearest to the kitchen. The table covered in a pristine white cloth spanned nearly the entire room and could easily have seated sixteen people. Glass cabinets filled with silverware and pretty trinkets took up one wall, gleaming in the light from the crystal chandelier.

'So this is the dining room, you can eat in here if you want, but no one ever really does.'

When she didn't respond, choosing instead to admire the room, he looked around slightly helplessly in search of something more to say. He didn't seem to find anything, however, since he turned and left the room, apparently expecting her to follow. She didn't out of pure pig-headedness, feeling the need to distance herself from him by forcing him to return and take her by the arm to lead her to the next room.

It turned out to be a ballroom and it was everything its name suggested. The floor was polished until it shone, and there was a mahogany bar in the corner behind which stood shelf upon shelf of bottles.

It was the first room that she particularly noticed had windows since now that she thought about it neither the office nor her bedroom had any, and the dining room had the curtains closed. This room had floor to ceiling windows framed by creamy coloured drapes, making it seem larger in a way that had Kaoru's heart feeling lighter. It was somehow strangely like her dojo with its neutral colours and airiness, and she immediately knew that this was going to be one of her favourite rooms. She was torn from these pleasant thoughts when Battousai began to speak again.

'Well, this is the ballroom…you can…um…dance here, I guess. Not that you have to, it can be used for other stuff as well if you want.'

Deeply confused by this rapid change from dominant caveman to shy, bumbling sweetheart, she frowned. What was with this weird behaviour? Why was he showing her round like this? Then it hit her so hard she nearly stumbled and she wondered how it hadn't come to her sooner. He was playing with her, mocking her with the Kenshin mask which had so perfectly fooled her before and taunting her with all the possible escape routes she would never get to use while he kept her locked away in her windowless room.

The sense of lightness the room had given her faded and the relief she had felt at not being shoved back into her dark room was now replaced by a burning need to return there and shut the world and, most importantly, Battousai, out. She gritted her teeth against the urge to try and beat the living daylight out of him. She was not a toy, damn it, the sadistic bastard! Well, she was going to turn his little plan against him. She would memorise every room in this godforsaken fortress and then bide her time until he slipped up and gave her the chance she needed to escape. She hoped against hope that that chance came soon.

After the ballroom, they visited a library filled to the rafters with books of every shape and size. Then, a sitting room containing a large plasma screen television, surround sound and a stereo system that must have cost more than her dojo, since she refused to use her father's money to start it.

"I guess assassinations pay well," she thought coldly, as they left and made their way up the large flight of stairs. She made note of the fact that there was only one way up.

There were two floors above the one her room was on, all with dusty, unused bedrooms. Finally, they returned back to her floor and to her amusement proceeded to look in on Sano's room.

As she expected, it was a complete mess, beer cans and sake jars everywhere, and clothes scattered across the floor. She stifled a laugh which disappeared when she caught sight of Battousai's expression.

'I am simply giving you the entire tour, Koneko, you will definitely not be seeing the inside of this room again.'

She blinked and glared at him. Did he just imply she was easy? She bit her tongue in her effort to keep from swearing at him. She needed to see everything if she was going to be able to create a blueprint of the house in her head, but damned if it wasn't hard to keep from retorting with something.

A little further down they came to the Devil's own lair. It was decorated in deep shades of red and black which, surprisingly, didn't give the room the heavy sense that dark colours often did. Perhaps it was because, aside from the canopied bed and a large wooden chest in one corner, this room contained nothing.

'I would appreciate it if you did not use your knowledge of the location of my room as a way to kill me in my sleep,' Battousai said seriously, but the hint of amusement that showed in his amber eyes informed her that he in no way believed she would get anywhere near close enough to kill him.

'You may, of course, visit my room for any other reason whenever you like,' he purred, his voice sliding over her like silken velvet.

Dropping the Kenshin disguise entirely, he was suddenly right in front of her, mouth quirking in an overtly sexy smirk.

'I don't think I will need to see you for anything else, but thank you for asking,' she told him in as icy a tone as she could manage past the catch in her throat, a scowl spreading across her face as she pushed past him.

For the second time in as many hours, she found her back against a wall with a darkly seductive red head pressed against her.

'I beg to differ, Koneko,' he breathed in her ear, before dipping his head to brush his lips along her throat. 'Your kisses told me otherwise.'

Blushing with humiliation, something within Kaoru finally snapped. She couldn't take this anymore. She hated the fact that some darker part of her actually enjoyed Battousai's forcefulness, the leashed power with which he held her, the way his deep voice whispered sin and possession in her ear. He was a murderer, damn it, she should be sickened by his touch, not craving it.

'Get off me!' she cried, bucking against him in an effort to free herself. 'Just get the hell off me! Why are you doing this? Why can't you just leave me the hell alone? I hate you!'

She felt tears brim over to slide down her face, but she couldn't stop them now that they had begun.

'I hate you!'

Battousai was frozen to the spot in front of her, the look of a trapped and injured animal ghosting over his features as he simply stared at her crying form. Then, without warning, his face shadowed into something terrifying and he spoke with deadly calm.

'You may hate me, Koneko, but I will not give you up, I will not let him have you and, damn it, even if it kills me, I will protect you.'

Confused and hurt, the urge to hit him, pound him to a pulp with her bandaged fists, was almost overwhelming, but instead she took out her need to hurt him with her next words, words she knew innately would hurt him more than physical pain.

'The only thing I need protection from, Battousai, is you.'

He didn't hold her back this time as she pushed him away and fled back to her dark, silent room.

**Author's note:** There we go, folks! Review!

Japanese terms:

Dono- very polite honorific

Koneko- kitten

Sama- very polite honorific

Sessha- Unworthy one

Shihandai- teacher

Yosomono- stranger


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note:** Alright, people, this is going to be the last chapter I put up before my exams. I hope you all enjoy it and please review, it brightens my day and makes me feel like all the effort I put in is worth while.

**Chapter Four**

Misao crouched with feline grace in the large tree. Her skilled eyes scanned the perimeter of the well-protected estate, searching for any weaknesses that might work to her advantage. There were none. Damn, it was like Fort Knox, with its great barbwire tipped walls and high tech motion and heat sensing security system. It appeared the Battousai was very obstinate about his privacy. Well, he was going to be disappointed then, because Makimachi Misao did not give up, especially when it came to her dearest friend.

_She groaned softly, rolling over in bed to beat her alarm clock into submission. Yet, even after knocking it across the room and against the opposite wall, it still didn't stop the ringing._

_She fought valiantly to ignore it, hiding her head deep beneath her pillow, but finally she was forced to admit defeat. Cracking open one eye, she came to enough to realise that it wasn't her alarm clock that was ringing. It was her doorbell. She couldn't tell exactly what time it was, considering the remains of her clock now lay in pieces on the floor, but she was fairly certain it was not the right time for people to be trying to get in. _

_Springing lightly out of bed, her energy not even slightly depleted by the ungodly hour or the hard training session with Aoshi-sama the day before, she pulled on a dressing gown over her baggy t-shirt and panties combo, before making her way to the door of her apartment, a kunai securely held in her fist._

_Once there she paused to stand on tiptoe and peek through the spy hole in her door. Her gasp was loud enough to make the person on the other side look up from the contemplation of their blood stained hands._

'_Kaoru!' _

_Misao flung the door open, ignoring the way it dented the wall of the small entryway with the force of the movement. Kaoru stood in front of her, blood splattered and sweaty from running, a dazed look of mingled fear and relief in her eyes. Fleetingly, Misao thanked Kami for the miracle that meant her friend had not been picked up by the police, before turning to the terrifying matter at hand._

'_What happened to you?' _

_She grasped Kaoru gingerly by the arm, first scanning the road for any signs that the other woman was being followed and then her body for injuries as she pulled her inside._

'_Kenshin…I…blood… dead.' _

_It was clear from the way she shook and the disjointed words that tumbled forth that Kaoru was in deep shock. Misao sat her down on the sofa in her living room, not caring that the blood all over the other woman's clothes was ruining the upholstery. Taking her face in her hands, she forced the normally fiery kendo instructor to look at her._

'_Kaoru, is this blood yours?' _

_At the negative shake of her head, Misao let out the breath she didn't know she'd been holding._

'_Is it Kenshin's?' _

_At the sound of his name, Kaoru began to rock herself gently backwards and forwards, looking for all the world as though she had just escaped an asylum._

'_Kaoru, is it Kenshin's? Is he hurt?'_

_Again, Kaoru shook her head slowly, but she didn't talk. Standing up, Misao went and got some sake, wrapping her friend's fingers around it and forcing her to drink. After several sips, Kaoru finally managed to open her mouth to speak._

'_So much blood,' she croaked._

_Then she ran for the toilet, leaving Misao sitting on the blood-stained couch. _

'_Oh Kaoru, what happened?'_

Her eyes flashed and her entire body tensed with the need to move. She had never found out what had happened to Kaoru that night. Her friend, once calm, had refused to talk about it again as though to repeat what happened would make it real. All she knew was that Battousai had played a major role in whatever bloody scene had left the kendo instructor with such brutal nightmares and brutal they were. The first night after the incident, Misao had been woken again, this time by screaming, a high pitched, animal keening that set her teeth on edge and her heart racing. She had burst through to the adjoining room of the seedy, rest stop motel where they were briefly holed up to find Kaoru sitting in bed, clawing at her sweat slick borrowed clothes and her face wild with fear. The nightmares had diminished slowly with time, but the fear never left, still a shadowy presence in her friend's life. Now, that same man, the same one to have caused such irreparable damage, had her friend trapped in this prettily decorated jail and she had no idea what could be happening to her.

Yet, intolerably, for the moment there was not even a single hope of getting to Kaoru. Misao would just have to use all her training and patience to bide her time until she got the chance to save her friend and pray that she didn't arrive too late.

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The door creaked open, spilling light into the darkened bedroom. Kaoru forced her body to go limp, her breathing even, slipping her hand beneath her pillow to grip the kitchen knife she'd tucked there.

Then for so long there was silence that she wondered, despite it being locked, whether the door had simply opened by itself. Just as she was about to get up and close it, one of the floorboards squeaked, alerting her to someone's presence right beside her bed.

With an incredible effort of will she somehow managed to lie still, hands shaking beneath her pillow as she battled her fighter's instinct to at least open her eyes to know her intruder.

The bed dipped as they sat down and she caught the familiar scent of ginger and pine.

'I wish there was another way.' Battousai's voice was quiet and gruff as though he were holding back some great emotion. 'You have to know, if I could protect you as just Kenshin I would, but I need you to be safe and I can't do that as the man who refuses to kill.'

He brushed some hair from her face, tucking it gently behind her ear. She could feel his hand tremble as it moved to smooth across her cheek, his callused fingers slightly rough against her skin, drawing to the surface memories of more intimate caresses.

'I will do anything to protect you, Koneko. I will not lose you, I will know you're safe, and if the only way I can do that is by being the thing I loathe the most, Battousai, then I freely pay the price of my happiness for your safety.'

The bed moved again as he stood and walked away.

'But when I said I didn't mind you hating me…' he trailed off and the agony in his voice sent an involuntary pang of pain through her. 'I can't let you go now.'

There was so much desperation in his words. He was pleading with her to understand, but she simply couldn't. It was like there was a puzzle piece missing and without it she couldn't recognise the picture. All she knew was that this gentleness, such a far cry from the violent possessiveness she was growing used to, made her want to cry and run into the warmth of his embrace, but instead, she remained perfectly still, feigning sleep until the door was once again closed and she was left in the dark, a million questions spinning in her head.

She woke after spending most of the night tossing and turning to that blissful moment when you don't remember quite where you are or what has happened. Stretching luxuriously beneath the warm sheets, she yawned, not completely sure whether she was ready to be conscious. Then everything slammed back down and she knew there was no slipping back into that sweet sleep, the weight of it all feeling as though it would crush her.

A sob worked its way up her throat and she turned over to muffle it in her pillow. Had the night visit been a dream? No. It had been too real. She could still feel the rough pads of his fingers stroke along the curve of her cheek, sending terrifyingly pleasurable sparks flowing through her blood and the gravelly timber of Battousai's voice as he'd spoken. Even worse, she could still catch that scent uniquely his that lingered in the air, obliging her to admit the truth.

She was so confused. His words, what had they meant? She had lain awake for what felt like hours after his strange visit, wondering and agonizing.

Protection? Now she thought past her own fearful anger and his possessive actions over the last hours, she remembered him using the word several times. Why would he need to protect her? Was it just paranoia, a symptom of his own insanity? Yet, he had been so painfully sincere, so close to being her old Kenshin in that moment.

_But when I said I didn't mind you hating me…_

Her chest tightened as the words, filled with so much sadness and hurt, rang once again through her head.

Why did he have to act this way? Why couldn't he just stay the aggressively possessive man she'd grown used to encountering since her capture? He kept doing things that tangled her idea of him and why he wanted her. The way he had acted when she was wounded, the flash of something childlike and terrified that passed through his eyes at the sight of her blood, that had not been the reaction of a man looking at his disposable play thing, it had been someone petrified at the thought of losing…

She stroked her right hand absently across her other wrist, feeling the rough texture of her bandages beneath her touch. Maybe Battousai isn't… she caught herself mid- thought and mentally beat the idea away.

'Don't you dare go there, this isn't Kenshin, Kamiya. The Kenshin you came to know doesn't exist, he's a fake, an utter fallacy created to draw you in. He was the one that chained you to the bed in the first place, damn it. It's his fault you were hurt. That's the only reason he did anything,' she berated herself, scowling and kicking the covers off her to release some of her hostility.

"If he's a sociopath without conscience and you're just his plaything then he wouldn't have cared if it was his fault."

That annoying little voice reappeared to bug her. She pushed it away, burying it and the confusion it immediately sent spiraling out of control, under an avalanche of only slightly forced rage.

Well, now the sleep she'd been hoping to abandon herself in again was most definitely gone. She rolled out of bed, flipping on the bedside light and landing in a low crouch on the ground, one leg straight and one bent to carry her weight as she stretched the aches out of her muscles.

She repeated the process for her other leg and then fell into some gentle katas to release a little of the tension built up in her body. The repetitive motions soothed her and drove the muddling thoughts from her mind, if only for a while.

She missed the familiar weight of her bokken in her hands, but she had destroyed her only reasonably bokken shaped piece of debris. For a moment she played with the idea of tearing another bar of wood off the large headboard but decided against it since it would inevitably draw the attention of the Battousai or his idiot sidekick. She was not going to voluntarily spend any time in their company, that was for damn sure.

Suddenly, with a loud pop, the room descended into darkness, tearing a shocked whimper from her throat. She dived at the door before the fear, constantly lurking at the corners of her mind, could stir and immobilise her limbs.

She fumbled for the main light switch but when she couldn't find it, and the panic was beginning to make her heart race in her ears, she threw herself against the door, grasping the door handle and wrenching with all her strength. The door swung inwards without hindrance and she stumbled back with the force of her pull, landing on the floor with an audible thump. She didn't waste any time cursing the new bruise she was about to add to her collection, however, jumping to her feet and practically throwing herself out of the door. Leaning against the opposite wall, she slid down into a sitting position and heaved air into her lungs.

This phobia of hers was getting out of control. From a simple discomfort with silence, it had escalated to the point where she now couldn't even stand the dark, paired as it usually was with that all-consuming stillness which made her blood run cold and her heart skip in a way that had her wondering if it would ever start beating again.

It took long moments before she could get enough of a grip on her composure to realise that her room had not been locked and she was now sitting outside it with no sound of footsteps to tell her that someone was coming to return her to hell. This was it, her chance. Battousai had obviously been careless when he'd left her room and left her the escape she had been longing for.

Jumping to her feet, her anxiety attack forgotten, she dashed down the corridor, fearing that at any moment her luck might run out. Every corner she turned was one step closer to freedom, but her progress was slow as she stopped each time to listen for the tell-tale footfalls that foretold the end of her escape. This wasn't like the last time though. She knew where she was going, having carefully mapped her exit strategy in her head during her near sleepless night, and she was very thankful for it. The corridors all looked identical if you hadn't taken note of the small differentiations in decoration or colour that allowed you not to get hopelessly and irrevocably lost.

Finally, she was at the top of the main stairs and she could see the front door, beckoning to her, whispering words of liberty and freedom in her ear. This was going to be the hardest part of her escape. This was the only area that was entirely in the open, doors on all sides, out of which people could come at any moment. Yet, she clung to the fact that once she was outside, once she had left this wretched hellhole, she knew she'd have a chance.

She ran so fast it felt as though her feet didn't touch the ground, but instead of going for the front door, which held only the false hope of a siren's call singing you to your doom, she headed to the door of the ballroom.

Yet, just as she reached it she heard something that made her pause. The door to the office was just slightly ajar and she could have sworn she heard Misao's name being said from inside. Her hand hesitated over the handle to the room which whispered of her freedom, but her curiosity won out and she turned away. She needed to know.

Body tingling with the awareness of her precarious position, she tiptoed in her stocking feet over the marble floor to the door and held her ear beside the gap.

'Call her off,' Battousai's deep voice rumbled and she realised when there was no response that he was on the phone. 'Yes, I am aware of your subordinate's temperament, but you are the leader. I warn you if she gets in the way of our plan I will not hesitate to remove her.'

There was a silence and Kaoru shifted. Was the conversation over? She should move but her mind was reeling and she couldn't tear herself away. Then Battousai spoke again and her attention snapped back inside the office.

'Do not threaten me, Shinomori. She is your responsibility. You are to blame. Hold up your end or you will regret it.'

She vaguely heard the receiver slam home in its cradle, but she was not there any more, mentally or physically. Her thoughts lurching out of control, she stumbled to the ballroom door and, fumbling with the handle, slipped inside and closed it behind her.

Resting against it, a wave of dizziness and nausea nearly overcame her. Aoshi? Aoshi was working with the monster who plagued her existence? She couldn't understand it, couldn't bear the betrayal. There must be some reason, she had to believe that, because even if Aoshi would betray her, she knew he would never betray Misao and Misao would never betray her. Her resolve was only strengthened further. She had to get out of here, now not only because she needed to escape Battousai, but also because she needed answers.

Opening her eyes, she let out a choked sound. There was only darkness. What the hell was this? Groping for the light switch, She flicked it on and the room was just as she had remembered it, down to the open curtains showing a beautiful night sky beyond.

Her eyes goggled. Had she slept that long? She knew for a fact that when she had gone to bed it had been night. Had she slept less or more than she had thought? With the fretful slumber she'd had, it was entirely possible she'd dozed off and woken only a little while later to think she'd had a full night's rest. Dragging herself from her shocked state of immobility, the distant sounds of talking reminded her of her present precarious situation.

'Focus, Kamiya,' she growled. 'This just makes your escape all the easier. They are not expecting you awake.'

She scanned the room. Then she moved to the nearest window, inspecting it to find attached, as she had expected, an alarm system. It was well hidden though, only given away by a tiny flashing red light high up on the window frame. Pursing her lips, she considered her options. Either she could open the window, setting off the alarm and alerting her captors to her escape, of course with no guarantee that it wouldn't be locked or soldered shut anyway meaning instant failure, or she could simply break the window, undoubtedly also alerting her captors, but thus having a greater chance of finding freedom. She liked the second plan better for two reasons, it made more sense and it caused a lot more damage than plan one.

A wide grin spread across her face as she contemplated the room. She needed something heavy enough to break a window but still light enough to lift. Her eyes fell on the sturdy looking stools set out in front of the bar in the corner. Perfect. She practically skipped over to them, her bouncing step uncannily reminiscent of Misao's energetic movements. Misao, a pang of hurt and confusion shot through her and she bottled it up. This she would deal with later.

It wasn't a huge effort to lift the closest stool and walk it back to one of the windows, but it was enough to make her pant slightly with the exertion, a good sign in Kaoru's opinion that it would shatter the glass without any problems. With a deep breath she raised the stool above her head and…

'That won't work, Jou-chan.'

She turned abruptly, the incriminating stool still held high above her head. The red head-banded idiot leaned nonchalantly against the door, which he had managed to open without her hearing a sound.

'It's bullet proof glass, nothing short of a car hitting it will break that stuff and even then it would take the car with it,' he continued, pushing off the frame and wandering over to take the stool from her grip.

'Anyway those are my favourite pieces of furniture, took me ages to find the perfect ones.' He patted the stool he'd just put back lovingly. 'Comfort and traditional style all wrapped up into one.'

She hadn't a clue what the guy was waffling about, but she was saved from having to come up with a put down when her stomach rumbled long and loud. She blushed, mortified even though she shouldn't care what this man thought of her.

The biggest grin she had ever seen appeared on his face as he watched her and she couldn't help but feel nervous under his teasing scrutiny, so she did what Kamiya Kaoru did best, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

'What? It's not my fault you freaks don't feed your hostages!'

He outright laughed at that.

'Well then, why don't we go to the kitchen and you can make me some grub, Jou-chan.'

She stared at him, staggered. Had Battousai not told him? An evil grin possibly larger than the idiot's covered her face and she saw his fade a little round the edges, his eyes nervous. He had foiled her escape attempt, but she would find another way and if the baka got food poisoning and died so much the better for her.

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Kaoru stood in front of the stove trying, but not very hard, to remember Battousai's instructions on how to use it. After much deliberation, she shrugged indifferently, turned the knob to the highest number on the dial and poured in the eggs and whatever shell shards she had not been able or motivated enough to remove.

She stirred vigorously for a few moments before becoming bored and scanning the room for something to find interest in. When nothing became apparent she decided she might as well talk to her victim.

'So, what was your name again? Sousuke? Sasuke?'

She had a vague memory of Battousai saying his name at one point after her first escape attempt, but not surprisingly she hadn't been paying attention at that time. When he didn't reply, clearly affronted, she shrugged.

'It's either you tell me your name or I call you that idiot in the red head-band for the rest of our joyous time together. Not that I'd particularly mind, but it's a bit of a mouthful if you have to say it every time you speak to someone.'

She was babbling but she didn't much care. It was probably better than starting a conversation with the red head-banded idiot sitting at the island. She had strategically placed herself so that she could cook and still keep him in sight, not especially relishing the idea of having one of the Battousai's murderous cohorts at her back.

'The name's Sanosuke, Jou-chan. Sanosuke Sagara, but you can just call me Mr. Gorgeous, or Sano will do too.'

She snorted audibly and caught his cocky smirk, a look she was beginning to realise was his trademark, widen out of the corner of her eye.

She was just about to make a scathing remark about his looks, when she smelled something burning. Looking down at the pan in front of her, she found what looked like the congealed remains of a burnt tyre staring back at her, and it smelled like it too. She had completely stopped stirring when she'd started talking with Sano and it seemed the food had suffered from her lack of attention. Fighting the smile that threatened to give the game away, she scraped what was left of the mess onto the plates set out on the counter beside the stove. They already contained the charred remains of a couple of slices of toast.

'Food's ready,' she chirped brightly as she placed the dishes on the island and sat down across from a horrified Sano.

Digging in, long since immune to her own non-existent cooking skills, having moved out of her father's mansion at the age of eighteen, she watched the man across from her. Sano was sitting and staring at the food in front of him, occasionally prodding at something with a hesitancy that suggested it might up and bite him at any moment. Then, he suddenly put down his fork and bowed his head, his hands neatly folded in his lap.

Kaoru observed him for a while, chewing and swallowing several times before finally giving in to curiosity.

'What are you doing?'

Sano lifted his head, wiping away an imaginary tear.

'I am mourning the passing of some perfectly good chow,' he said in a sorrowful voice.

Kaoru scowled at him, before taking a large dollop of black egg on her fork and flicking it at him.

'Serves you right for being a lazy ahou,' she laughed, as the egg dripped down his face.

Thus began a long and vicious food fight, during which both parties sustained critical damage, at least to their hair.

Kaoru ducked a flying grenade of toast coated in slimy egg and immediately stood to launch her own attack. It made contact with a wet slap and Sano fell back, his hand to his head in a melodramatic death scene.

'Mercy, mercy! Grant a poor soldier one last wish,' he moaned. 'I would die happy with a single kiss from a fair maiden and behold there is none, but you'll do.'

He waved the hand not occupied by covering his forehead at Kaoru, closing his eyes and puckering his lips in preparation.

Kaoru threw one last blob of egg, hitting him right on the mouth, before she doubled over laughing, her entire body trembling with the force. She looked up in time to see a flash of red as the kitchen door swung shut, drawing her back to reality. She was not messing around and having a food fight with a friend, she was hanging out with the associate of an assassin who had abducted her. Her mood immediately darkened and she straightened to try and remove as much slime from her clothing as possible. Sano, apparently sensing the change in atmosphere, stood as well and did the same.

'I think it's pretty obvious who won here, don't you?' he smiled boyishly, fishing a piece of something unidentifiable from his hair.

At her stony silence, he continued.

'Me, of course, because I successfully avoided eating that slop.'

He shuddered theatrically. When she still didn't respond, he frowned slightly.

'Hey, what's eating you? It's not the remains is it? ´Cause I swear I saw some of it move earlier.'

Normally, a comment like that would have started another bout of play-fighting, but the happy spell had been broken and she didn't even crack a smile, just wanting to be left alone. She was suddenly so tired, so sick of this whole horrible situation.

'I was fooled for a minute there, idiot,' She sighed, as she slid back onto a stool, fearing her legs might simply give out under her.

Tears pricked at the backs of her eyes but she refused to cry in front of anyone again.

'Fooled by what?'

Sano sat opposite her, confusion painting his face.

'I don't know what your game is, trying to make friends with me, but it's not going to work.'

She laughed bitterly, the sound ugly and twisted.

'What the hell are you talking about, woman?'

'You guys obviously have some sort of plan,' she continued. 'You want me to let my guard down and then…'

Sano butted in then, suddenly angry.

'What crap has someone been filling your head with? What kind of monster do you think I am?'

Kaoru's eyes flashed dangerously as she looked up into his.

'The kind that is hired to murder innocent people because they form an obstacle to whatever rich and powerful bastard wants something at the time.'

Sano was dumbstruck for long seconds before he finally found his voice, his expression changing from shock to one of blazing fury as he practically shouted in her face.

'I don't know where the hell you got these ideas from, but we don't murder innocent people we take out corr…'

The door had swung open while they had been arguing and a nervous looking uniformed man stood there, hopping from foot to foot.

'Mr. Sagara…um…Mr. Himura requests your presence in the o-office.'

Sano clicked his mouth shut, jaw clenching hard enough to hurt and there was no sign of the mischievous, boyish look she'd grown to feel comfortable with.

'We will finish this conversation later,' he promised before turning on his heel to follow the shaking man from the kitchen.

Kaoru watched him leave, waiting for the door to swing shut completely and the sound of footfalls to fade before crumpling. She rested her head in her hands and finally allowed the tears to flow.

_The office was as impersonal as the reception area she had sat in earlier. The neutral white walls were made even colder by the sterile stainless steel décor of the desk and chairs. She fidgeted in her uncomfortable metal seat and missed the warmth the office used to have when her father was in charge._

_Then, it used to have soft blue velvet couches for small conferences and matching chairs round the desk. The walls had been covered in photos of her and her mother with gaudily coloured pictures she'd drawn as a child and her graduation certificate. The memory of coming to visit him in his office to bring him lunch when she was younger, and how he had brightened at the sight of her, made tears sting the corners of her eyes._

'_I'm glad you could make it, Kaoru.' _

_She looked up from the contemplation of her hands and tried to smile at the man sitting before her. It ended up as more of a grimace, but he didn't seem to notice._

'_It's nice to see you again, Uncle Takeda.' _

_He wasn't really her uncle, but ever since she was tiny she'd taken to calling him. It had just been nice to pretend she had some family._

'_Well, let's get down to business then.' _

_Kanryu steepled his fingers on the desk, leaning forwards with a deadly serious expression on his face. _

'_I want you to stop seeing the Battousai.'_

_Kaoru frowned. She didn't know anyone called Battousai and she was sure she would have remembered such a strange name._

'_Battousai?'_

_A small stack of photos was slid across the desk towards her. Picking them up, her eyes widened in shock. Picture upon picture of her and her boyfriend stared back at her. Kenshin carrying her groceries to the car with her behind him, twirling her car keys round her fingers and smiling. Kenshin, with his arm round her shoulders in their favourite café, watching the world go by. Kenshin, kissing her outside her apartment building on one of the nights he had an early start and couldn't come in._

'_What the hell is this? Are you stalking me?' _

_She trembled visibly as she tore the photographs to shreds, dropping the pieces on the floor, uncaring of the mess they made in his minimalist chic office._

'_No, I am simply keeping an eye on my favourite god daughter.' _

_His voice was still the same dry monotone. _

'_I don't think you quite realise who you are associating with, Kaoru. This,' he stabbed another picture he pulled out of just Kenshin this time, with a perfectly manicured finger. 'Is the Battousai, a man without conscience or redeeming feature who works for an organization that hires him out as an assassin.'_

_She stared at him incredulously. Her sweet Kenshin, who had refused to kill a spider even when it had crawled onto his tofu, was a violent killer for hirer? She nearly fell off her chair laughing._

'_Oh good one, Uncle Takeda, you had me freaked there for a second with all those scary stalker pictures. You put a lot of effort into this.' _

_Kanryu's facial features didn't change in the slightest as he slid the picture over for her to look at. It was definitely of Kenshin, his distinctive red hair unmistakable, but as she looked more closely she realized it couldn't be. This man had a hard face, set in sharp lines of cold calculation as he looked around him. Even from the distance the photographer was standing, you could see the steely glint of blank amber eyes. Amber? There that proved it._

'_This isn't Kenshin, Uncle Takeda, he has violet eyes and this man's are amber.' _

_Kanryu nodded slightly but didn't seem convinced._

'_No, this is your Kenshin, Kaoru, trust me, and this is a list of every single person he has killed.' _

_He passed her a thick file to look at. She flipped through it; there were pictures of happy, ordinary men and women with details of their jobs, their children, their pets. Then, horrifyingly, there were pictures of their bodies. She felt sick. This Battousai was a monster._

_She stood to leave, dropping the file back on the desk, no longer able to stand looking at all those faces knowing they were dead._

'_Well, I hope they catch the bastard, uncle Takeda. Thank you for your concern, I can see where the mistake came from, he looks very like Kenshin.'_

_She made for the door, pausing as Kanryu called her name._

'_How much do you actually know about this man, Kaoru?' _

_She didn't respond, smiling and walking out of the room without looking back, but the question stuck with her. How much did she know about Kenshin?_

At the time, she hadn't believed him, letting it slide as a case of mistaken identity, but with the things that had come to pass, and the faces of the murder victims indelibly printed on her mind, she had been forced to accept it as truth.

Now though, the way Sano had looked at her in such sincere shock, his furiously shouted words, had confused her. What had he been about to say before the man had come in? Again she felt like she was missing some vital piece of information, something that would make everything fall into place and without which she would be left perpetually in dark, about Battousai, about Aoshi, but worst of all about herself.

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Sano felt the tension slide from his body as soon as he left the kitchen. That Kaoru chick had some seriously warped ideas about what the Ishin Shishi did. He'd meant to calmly talk to her about it earlier after what he'd overheard her say to Megumi in the office, but when she'd made that outburst about him all ideas of reasonable discussion had flown out of the window. Shaking it off for now, he opened the door to the office, so distracted by his thoughts he didn't notice the way the guard scuttled away rapidly as though at any moment a bomb was going to explode and he wanted to be well out of its vicinity when it did.

'Yo, Kenshin, man, did you get his location?'

Fighter's intuition was the only thing that helped him dodge the blow that flew at his head, and even then the fist grazed along his already injured cheek. He immediately dropped into a roll so that he had an armchair between him and the irate man standing by the door. It was all true what they said about red heads, they really did have quick tempers.

'Ok, what the hell is in the air in this house? ´Cause everyone is acting nuts.'

Battousai moved with blurring speed, but Sano was prepared for him this time, shoving his shield at the other man before flipping away across the desk so that the vicious punch he would have received to the sternum, connected instead with thin air. Battousai snarled, his lips pulling back to show his teeth.

'Right, let's all calm down and talk rationally now, yeah?' Sano asked hopefully, putting his hands up in a placating gesture, eyes warily following the red head's movements.

This time he didn't have time to sidestep as he was grasped firmly by the throat and dragged back across the table and onto the floor with a clatter of desk materials.

'Kenshin, man, talk to me here! What the hell is going on?' Sano gasped, just catching a fist as it made for his face.

'You will stay away from my woman, Sanosuke,' Battousai finally growled, jumping backwards out of range as Sano tried to kick him off.

Sano's eyebrows shot up in confusion before his angry friend's words sank in. He could have laughed, resisting only to save his own skin. Megumi had been right on the mark, though there was no way in heck he was going to tell her that. It appeared the infamous Battousai was afraid he was losing his girl to another man, namely him. He had obviously seen Sano's food fight with Kaoru and decided that he was trying to seduce her. The only thing that didn't amuse the fist fighter was the red head's conclusion that the best way to deal with the situation was to eliminate the competition.

'I have no interest in Kaoru, Kenshin,' he said in a soothing tone ruined only by the way he quaked with suppressed chuckles. 'You know my only girl is Megumi.'

This reassurance seemed to cool Battousai's wrath, and he stumbled over to his desk chair, collapsing with his head in his hands.

'I'm sorry, Sano. I just can't seem to think straight when it comes to her,' he rasped, clutching at his bangs and tugging them lightly. 'She hates me, nothing I do seems to change that, and then I come into that kitchen and there she is laughing and smiling at you like I long for her to do for me, and I just lost it. It's not fair, you do exactly the same job I do and yet you are forgiven and I am despised.'

His words were so desperate, so tormented, that Sano took pity on him, sitting up to face him.

'First off, if you had stuck around a little longer, you would've seen her try to bite my head off,' he offered as reassurance, leaning forwards to slap his leg.

'Why didn't you come in and beat the crap out of me on the spot anyway?' He continued before Battousai could ask what the argument was about.

He didn't want his friend storming off to confront Kaoru himself, feeling it would be better if he did the talking since he'd managed to somehow build a rapport with the obstinate woman. He'd been lucky as it was that the red haired man hadn't stepped in when Kaoru had snapped at Megumi, too distracted by his worry for her and the news Sano had brought about the investigation.

Battousai sighed heavily and buried his face further into his hands.

'I scared her last night. We were touring the house and it was going well but then I…' he groaned to himself. 'Then I pressed her up against my bedroom wall.'

At Sano's incredulous look, he tried to explain.

'I just couldn't help myself! She was being so stubborn and I wanted to touch her so badly. I think she thought I was going to rape her and she lost it. I knew that if I came in there and killed you she'd be terrified of me and I'd never get her back.'

Sano nodded thoughtfully.

'So you called me in here to kill me out of her sight?' he asked, amused.

Battousai nodded mutely not looking even the slightest bit guilty.

'Please, Sano, what can I do? I screwed up the tour and I'm losing her.'

Sano had never heard the Battousai beg before and to be frank it scared him. Women could do the strangest things to a man. Fleetingly, he wondered whether he was like this around Megumi. He prayed not.

'Well, I wasn't going to give my secrets to anyone but my son, who I intend to make into the world's greatest playboy just like his dad…' He zoned out for a moment, apparently picturing a little Sano wandering around picking up girls and gambling. 'But I guess I could give you something.'

He sprawled back across the floor to prop himself on his arms, pausing for dramatic effect.

'I nearly got Megumi to fall in love with me by taking her up to the roof.'

Battousai raised his eyebrow skeptically, but Sano was undeterred.

'Seriously, man, the stars look amazing. All you have to do is take a blanket or something up there, lie back and their putty in your hands.'

'So, why isn't Megumi putty in your hands?' Battousai smirked.

Sano laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck.

'I tried to borrow money off her after kissing her. I think she thought I was trying to butter her up or something. She's still ignoring me for it.'

Battousai laughed heartily at that.

'Was that the time you refused to tell me how you got the black eye?'

Sano nodded ruefully, wincing at the memory as he touched the fresh bruises colouring his flesh.

'May the roof work better for you, my friend.'

He got up and headed for the door.

'Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go use that fancy ensuite shower in my room to wash out the egg your lady has stuck in my hair.'

**Author's note:** There you have it, my dear readers. You will have to wait until a while after June 23rd for the next update because that is when my exams end. Wish me luck and don't forget to review!

Japanese terms:

Ahou- idiot

Baka- idiot

Koneko- Kitten

Sama- very polite honorific


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's note:** K people, I actually managed to write chapter five even with my exams! It was the perfect distraction tool and I reveled in the use of it! So anyway, this chapter is a lot darker than the others and contains some stuff that made me feel upset writing it so be careful those who are squeamish about violence or mature scenes in the bad way. For those who want to read without the violent first flashback, you can because the basic gist of what happened can be picked up from the rest of the chapter. There is also a little light relief later on which I hope you will appreciate. Thank you to Bakasarupublishers for the thoughtful reviews. Also thanks to my two loyal reviewers who have reviewed almost all my chapters and make me want to keep writing, doggywuppy and inuyashaswifeforlifeonly.

**Chapter Five**

Kaoru let the stream of water wash everything away. Her fears, her worries, the egg that caked her skin and hair, all slipped down the drain as the heat cleansed her body.

She closed her eyes, breathing in the steam as she let the tension flow from her limbs. Her shower was a ritual, a form of therapy for her, the only commonality between the safe house after safe house she'd been moved to. Sometimes she could stay in for hours at a time without feeling the need to get out.

She had come up to her room, her thoughts so in turmoil with all that had happened that ideas of escape were impossible, and had immediately gone in search of the bathroom that Battousai had pointed out to her. It was a work of art, all white marble counters and pressurized water. She had let herself go, sliding down the tiled wall to sit and cry for long moments before getting up to wash herself, letting the tears mingle with the water until she hadn't been able to tell which was which. It was as close to heaven as she was going to get and she reveled in it.

Finally, only when her skin had pruned, she dragged herself from the shower's warm embrace, climbing out of the glassed in box to grab a towel. She looked at herself in the mirror, touching her reflection and hardly recognising the woman staring back at her. The pale skin and the dark circles that ringed her eyes scared her.

She tore her gaze away to pull on her clothes and grimaced at them. They were slimy with the congealed remains of the food fight, but even before that they had been disgusting and beginning to smell. They were the only set of clothes she had though. It wasn't like Battousai had stopped to pack a suitcase for her when he'd abducted her.

She sighed, picking up her outfit between pinched fingers, but she couldn't bring herself to slide her nice clean body back into it. Maybe she could leave it all here to soak in the sink and just slip back to her room in a towel until they were clean. Decision made, she wrapped the cloth more securely round her body and opened the bathroom door a crack to make sure no one was coming. When she couldn't see anyone, she swung it wide and stepped out.

'I brought you some clothes, Koneko. Though you do look very fetching in what you're wearing.'

She whipped round to face Battousai, resting against the wall beside the door. The unnerving thought crossed her mind that he'd purposely situated himself there, just where her blind spot would have been when she leaned out to check the corridor. Holding out a bundle of material, he smiled warmly at her. Suddenly, and ridiculously, self-conscious, she clutched the towel to her, reaching out to snatch the clothes, not really in a position to be picky about her attire, and without another word went back into the bathroom to change.

They turned out to be men's clothing, which was unsurprising since she hadn't seen any women aside from Megumi since she'd arrived. The dark blue button down shirt smelled of ginger and pine as she slipped it on, informing her that they were Battousai's clothes, and she couldn't help inhaling what used to be such a familiar and comforting scent. The sweat pants were way too baggy with a drawstring which she tightened as far as possible. They still hung dangerously low on her hips, but at least they didn't fall right off.

She felt like she was swimming in fabric as she rolled up the sleeves of the shirt to use her hands, opening the door. Battousai had turned so his back was pressed against the wall, one foot casually crossed in front of the other, and he straightened to watch her as she came out. Sparks seemed to fly between them as the silent seconds ticked by and, heart leaping, Kaoru couldn't help noticing the way the amber deepened as he gazed at her in his clothes.

'They're too big,' she grouched to distract him, uncomfortable with the way his look made her stomach flip flop.

'We will get you some clothes of your own at some point, Koneko,' he replied, dragging his eyes over her body shamelessly before coming to a stop at her own. 'At some point.'

She should have been worried by his words, but she couldn't think why. The lazy patterns of swirling gold in his gaze made her heady, drawing her in. She felt like a snake's prey, hypnotised into submission.

'Why don't we go get some fresh air?' he asked slightly huskily.

The question surprised her, knocking her off balance so that she nodded mutely. Was he going to show her the outside of the fortress? If so, this was her chance to do some recon for her escape. But instead of leading her down the corridor towards the main stairs, he headed the other way.

Frowning, she followed him down corridor after corridor and up several flights before they finally stopped at an inconspicuous little door on the top floor. Battousai unlocked it with the key from the chain round his neck, the one he'd used on her restraints when she'd first arrived. Noticing her curious gaze, he informed her that it was a master key, it could unlock pretty much anything, but that on the rare occasions it failed him, he had a trusty lock picking kit. He patted his pocket as he said this, looking for all the world like a naughty schoolboy.

The door swung open to reveal a small, functional wooden staircase that disappeared up into the darkness. Battousai flicked a light switch and, once the way was illuminated, began to ascend. Kaoru hesitated before following. Would this lead to some kind of torture chamber in the attic? She rolled her eyes, telling herself to stop being so melodramatic. This was not Bluebeard. Battousai may be many things, but she was fairly certain a sexual sadist wasn't one of them.

All the same it still took her a few moments to work up her courage before she managed to go after him. When she reached a trap door, a hand came down to help her through. Fumbling her way up, the scene before her was breathtaking. A softly swaying forest surrounded the fortress as far as the eye could see and the night sky, so hard to perceive in pollution filled Tokyo, was filled with millions of twinkling stars.

When she finally looked away from the stunning view, she realised they were standing on a widow's walk, black wrought iron railings running all round the edge. A mass of cushions and pillows took up most of the ground and small tables surrounded it coated in flickering candles that provided just enough gilded light. It was amazing.

Battousai dropped down onto the cushions, turning to look up at her hopefully. Somehow feeling the intense need not to disappoint him after all the effort he had gone to, she tugged awkwardly at her overlarge clothes, gingerly sinking down onto a pillow a short distance away. To her surprise, he didn't try to close the gap, merely passing her a blanket to stave off the late autumn cold before looking up at the sky.

What was happening? Had Battousai done such a thoughtful thing as an apology for last night's possessive antics? The bewilderment she had managed to keep at bay while basking in the warmth of her shower came flooding back. Why couldn't he just fit the role she had laid out for him? Why did he have to keep doing things that made her wonder? This latest development, combined with all the small, normally insignificant things that had happened since she had been abducted, were driving her insane. Had she been wrong to finally trust Uncle Takeda's words? A memory she had long since dismissed and forgotten was dragged to the surface.

_She stood at her father's office door. There had been no one at the reception desk to guide her, which was not unusual. It was lunchtime and her father often let his secretary go early, so she'd simply passed on through. She had been about to knock on the door when the sound of shouting had caused her to pause. Her father nearly never shouted and when he did you're safest bet was to run for cover. She decided to wait outside._

'_How dare you go behind my back and take this contract, Takeda! I told you that I was not interested in filling orders for men like him! He informed us himself of his intentions to blow up a school full of children, for Kami's sake! All to quash one, stupid revolt!'_

'_He has made a very generous offer, Koshijiro. It is in our best interest to fill his order,' came Uncle Takeda's ever droning response._

'_I don't give a flying fuck how much the guy is offering us! You should have followed my instructions! You are skating on very thin ice, Takeda.' _

_Kaoru jumped as her father's voice became even more irate. He never swore, not even on the occasion she'd broken his toe with a crate of sake. This must be very bad. She wondered whether she should leave, her father had always told her eavesdropping was wrong. But before she could come to a decision, her father continued talking in a calmer voice. _

'_And don't think I don't know about your debts or the fact you've been taking money from the company to pay them,' her father said wearily. 'You are a dear friend, but I will no longer turn a blind eye to your actions. You have been warned.'_

_There had been a long silence before a reply came._

'_I understand perfectly. Forgive me, it will not happen again.' _

_There was a loud sigh._

'_If you are in trouble, Takeda, please come to me. I got quite a shock when I did my check of the accounts.' _

_Kaoru thought it best to leave at this point, since it sounded like the meeting was coming to an end and she didn't relish the idea of being caught with her ear to the door._

She had heard nothing more about the incident and had assumed it to be cleared up, letting it go as an unfortunate, one-time mistake on Uncle Takeda's part. But now that the memory had been stirred up she couldn't help but have everything thrown into a new light. Could she really trust his words? The recollection, taken with the interrupted conversation with Sano, terrified her. Could she have been wrong? What he had done had been to save her…

Then Battousai proceeded to do something that tipped her over the edge into complete turmoil. He handed her a bokken with a large red ribbon attached to it.

'I don't want you destroying your hands anymore just so that you can practice,' he told her quietly, before turning back to the sky, thoughtfully giving her time to regain her composure.

She looked down at the sleek wood in her hands and nearly burst into tears. It was her old bokken, the one she had left behind when Misao had hidden her away. She hadn't stopped crying for days when she'd realized she didn't have it with her. Her father had bought it for her as a congratulations present when she had opened her dojo. She could still see the proud look on his face every time she held the wood in her hands.

It was all too much, the ups and downs, the rollercoaster of emotions. She wanted to go back to the way it used to be. Today, when she had been playing around with Sano, it had reminded her of how she used to be with Yahiko, bantering and throwing teasing insults at one another. She craved it with a longing that jerked her heart excruciatingly. She wanted to feel safe again. She wanted her Kenshin back.

Kaoru grasped Battousai by the arm and, when he turned questioningly towards her, she pressed her lips against his.

At first it was a chaste kiss, a simple touch of lips to lips. It was all Kaoru needed, some small physical contact to reassure her, to drown the onslaught of raging emotions and thoughts threatening to overwhelm her. But when she made to pull away, Battousai, who had remained passive up until this point, seemed to come to life. Letting out an almost pained noise, he chased her lips with his, leaning forwards so that his arms rested on either side of her bent knees.

This kiss was nothing like hers. It was passionate and desperate like he feared it was an illusion he didn't want to let go of. He lifted one of his arms to snake around her waist, drawing her body against his, his other coming up to cup her cheek gently. He tipped his head just a little, dominating the kiss and coaxing her into opening for his exploration.

Sparks danced through her veins, heating her body and making her head spin. She whimpered softly as his tongue slid against her teeth, his groan of approval vibrating through his chest and into the palms resting there. The hand that held her face slid along her neck to lightly stroke her body. It was a slow, languid movement and he didn't seem to feel the need to eroticise it. He didn't even pause at her breasts, preferring to find the hem of the shirt she wore, sliding beneath and simply stopping there to brush the pads of his fingers against her sensitive skin.

Time seemed to freeze and narrow in on the way his tongue skimmed against her own, the way his hands seemed to burn her flesh everywhere they touched. This was more than she had anticipated but everything that she had longed for. He moved away from her lips, but couldn't seem to release them entirely, placing light butterfly kisses on the corners of her mouth to ease the loss. Skating his mouth along her jaw and down to her throat, he nipped and sucked at the skin there, laving it with his tongue, the roughness making her jump and gasp softly.

'Kenshin,' she panted, her breath steaming in the cold air, such a contrast to the heat between them.

It was the first time since their estrangement that she had said his real name and, although it didn't register in her mind, it definitely seemed to catch his attention, only serving to fuel his desire. He wanted to hear her say it again.

Slowly lowering them backwards, his mouth continued its journey to her collarbone. She raised her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers in his hair and tugging to draw his face back up to hers. Battousai was not giving up his control, however, and gently removed her grip on his locks, pinning her arms on either side of her head. Looking down at her with heated eyes, he once again dropped his face to the crook of her neck.

Kaoru's eyes flew open wide at the feeling of his body pressing into hers, the dancing light catching the flash of blood red hair that blew across her face on the chilly evening breeze.

_She crawled backwards on her hands and knees, a desperate whimper escaping her throat. _

_The shadowy man moved forwards at a languorous pace, taking his time to reach her, enjoying her fear. His face caught in a pool of light thrown by the one lit lamp. Licking his thick lips, his dark eyes glittered with an evil that made her stomach churn._

'_Very nice,' he chuckled. _

_Her back connected hard with the wall and she had nowhere left to go. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think beyond the mind numbing fear._

_She shouldn't have let him in. Kenshin had told her over and over to be careful, to always check the peephole in the door, but tonight she'd just opened it without thinking, expecting it to be him home early from his late meeting. She'd tried to fix her mistake, slamming it shut as soon as she realised it wasn't him, but the man had been faster, sticking a heavy boot in the gap and forcing it open. After that she hadn't stood a chance._

'_I'm sure he won't mind too much if I play with you a little first,' he crooned, slinging the empty syringe carelessly away. 'No one said I couldn't.'_

_She darted her eyes around, searching for a weapon, anything to keep him away from her. There was nothing and he was upon her, the acrid smell of sweat lingering in the air around him._

'_Please, no,' she whispered, clawing at his face hard enough to draw blood. _

_She would have done more, but the drug injected into her neck was having its effect, making her sluggish and weak._

_The man laughed sickeningly, taking pleasure from her terror. Stroking his hand across the injury, he looked at the red that coating his hand, before grasping a handful of hair and dragging her forwards. She stifled a sob, unable to scramble fast enough to keep some of it from being torn out._

_Throwing her hard against the ground, her head hit home with a thwack that had her seeing stars. He turned her over and straddled her hips, pinning her legs down even as she writhed fruitlessly. Her limbs felt weighted as though they were made of lead. She felt pathetic, useless, and it made her want to scream, but she didn't. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. His mouth came down on hers, bruising and relentless. She could taste the nicotine. It disgusted her, nausea making her stomach roil. He forced his tongue between her lips and she bit down viciously, worrying it before he could pry her loose. She might not win but she'd be damned if she wasn't going to make him hurt before he did. _

_Crying out and pulling back, he spit a mouthful of blood onto her clothes._

'_Feisty, I like that.' _

_Only the words came out a slur, his tongue already swelling from her brutal ministrations. He ripped her button down shirt open, palming her breasts roughly through her bra. She finally found the energy to lift her arm, slashing her nails across his face again, deepening the long, shallow gashes down his cheek. He swore savagely, grasping her wrists and trapping them down over her head._

'_I like it, but that's enough,' he hissed beside her ear. 'Daddy's going to teach you some manners.'_

_Lowering one of his hands to run down her stomach, she knew where he was headed and she couldn't let him get there. She screamed, high and desperate, using her last vestiges of strength to twist and kick against his hold. He reached the waistband of her sweats, fingers slipping effortlessly beneath. No one was going to save her and she no longer had the strength to save herself. _

_Then, abruptly, his touch was gone, along with his body weighing her down. _

_She curled into a ball, sobs wracking her frame. She could hear shouting, covering her ears to make it all go away. Suddenly, it turned into screaming. Something warm and wet sprayed across her and she forced herself to look up. Kenshin stood over the bleeding form of the man, casually and clinically slicing into his flesh as he thrashed and begged. There was a dispassion to him that she had never seen before, a detachment that spoke of familiarity with this act, this careful slaughter._

'_How dare you touch her with your filthy hands.' _

_Kenshin's face was a blank mask, but his voice rasped with a deep, furious growl. He brought his sword down on the man's wrist and he squealed in agony, lifting away a gory stump, the remains left awkwardly on the floor. He did the same with the other and Kaoru couldn't tear her eyes away as the blade flicked, splattering her white walls red. She didn't register the way it painted her face and body, frozen to her spot on the ground._

'_But worse you tried much more and for this you will pay with your life,' Kenshin snarled and his words seemed to drag her from her stupor. _

_She didn't want to see this, didn't want to deal with what was happening. She fought the languor stealing over her body and struggled to her feet, slipping in the blood on the floor and crashing back down to her knees. Her hands were coated as though she were about to make finger paintings. _

_Managing to heave herself up, she stumbled away from the scene. _

_She didn't know how she made it to the street or all the way to Misao's apartment. All she knew was that she needed to get away, far away. A harsh noise echoed off the buildings around her and it took her long moments to realise it was the sound of her own screams._

Her screams had Battousai jumping into a low crouch a short distance away, body tensed for battle and eyes confused.

Kaoru coiled herself up tight, queasiness eating her insides as parts of the scene burst through her mind like flashbulbs. Blood was nothing new to her, Kami only knew she had seen enough of it during her years of kendo training. Broken bones and bleeding were an everyday occurrence then. But there had been so much. It had covered the floor, the walls, her body, and then the things that had been done to her, that had almost been done before the man had pretty much been dismembered before her eyes.

'Kaoru?'

She had been so absorbed in her own harrowing memories that she had forgotten that one of her nightmares was alive, kicking and had been kissing her senseless moments ago.

He placed a hand on her trembling shoulder and she shot back away from him, crashing into one of the carefully set up tables of glittering candles she had loved so much. They fell around her, mercifully missing her hair and clothes, but catching the material around her and lighting it instantly.

Kaoru cried out, trying to struggle out of the way and catching her feet on already blazing cushions before strong arms could lift her aside, gently setting her down a small distance from the fire. It was too late though, she was already burned, her feet twinging with the pressure she put on them.

Battousai cursed violently as he threw himself at the blaze, grabbing one of the blankets to beat at the flames. Kaoru watched in fascination as he moved with incredible speed, maneuvering gracefully around the fire in a mesmerising dance. The light from the flames slid across his hair, shifting the colour from dark red to almost orange and back.

She snapped from her daze when the sound of shouting and pounding feet drew her attention to the trapdoor they had come out of earlier. She needed to get away. She couldn't take the questions her actions would surely prompt. The thought of explaining, of going through it all again, was sickening. Battousai should remember anyway, he was the one who shredded the man. The mayhem that was happening around her made the perfect cover for her escape.

Dashing for the stairs, she dodged several panicking uniformed men who were waving extinguishers at the fire with less effect than Battousai and his blanket. She reached the hatch and began to scramble through it, both her legs on the stairs below before the voice shouted after her.

'Kaoru!'

She ignored it and continued down at a faster pace. She was not going to get away with running, she was sure of it, but she needed time to rebuild her shattered self-control. She trembled from head to foot and her eyes stung with more than the flames' ash. She wasn't going to cry over this again, she wouldn't, and yet traitorous tears began to slip down her cheeks. Kami, what was wrong with her? It was like she never stopped crying any more. It made her feel feeble and she hated it.

Reaching the bottom, she paused to catch her breath. She couldn't go back to her room, that would be the first place Battousai would check, so where could she go?

Without a second thought she headed for the ballroom. It was the room she felt safest in, reminding her of her dojo and she needed that right now.

It was dark and quiet and for once it was a relief. Turning on the lights she made her way immediately to the bar. She would have preferred to take her frustrations out on thin air with her bokken, but she had left it behind on the roof in her hurry to escape, so a stiff drink would have to take its place. Her stomach turned at the thought that her precious wooden sword might have burned up with the cushions. She was definitely going to need more than a drink now.

She rounded the bar, grabbing a bottle of whiskey and a glass, and plonked down on one of Sano's famous stools. They were indeed far more comfortable than the traditional wood stools she was used to. They didn't make your backside numb after five minutes like the old style ones did.

She poured a shot of the alcohol, the bottling clinking against the glass with her gently trembling fingers. Lifting it to her lips, she reveled in the way it burned as it slid down her throat, warming her queasy stomach. She set the glass down and refilled it, watching the swirling amber liquor for long moments before throwing it back in one go.

Again she refilled, again she downed. The liquid was the same intense, orangey gold as Battousai's eyes and a flash of his face contorted in vicious fury, splattered in another life's blood, slipped across her mind. She shuddered. The gory scene was burned into her memory and she chucked back yet another swig, hoping to kill it.

The thing that scared her most of all was that, although the violence with which he had attacked disgusted her, she couldn't help the small part of her which was satisfied with Battousai's actions, relieved that the monster would never be able to come after her again. He had hurt her, made her feel a vulnerability and powerlessness no woman, or person for that matter, should have to feel, and that same dark part that had enjoyed Battousai's possessive words and touches rejoiced in the man's murder. Oh Kami, she was a hypocrite, preaching justice without death and yet forgiving the murder of a man because he had made her suffer.

She felt suddenly dizzy, slumping forwards against the bar and resting her head against her hands. At first she struggled to fathom how this innocent interlude, started by her, had been the one occasion to bring it back and it was a long time until realisation struck. None of Battousai's earlier invasions of her space had broken the thick wall she had constructed between her and the memory because she hadn't ever felt threatened or caged. She had had full control over her body, had the ability to defend herself if it came to it, although she knew deep down it never would. No, it had taken the way he had pinned her down and the sight of his blood red hair falling over her face to drive forth the hideous recollection she had strived so hard to forget. He hadn't even held her that firmly. It had been just a gentle warning, a demonstration of his wishes. If she'd struggled or told him to let go, she knew by some innate sense that he would have released her instantly. It had simply been the sensory overload that had dragged her back to that dark place, the one she had managed by sheer force of will to bury during her time with the Oniwabanshu. She had fought her way out of that fear and she'd be damned if she let herself be pulled back in.

With this new sense of understanding, Kaoru sat up and, feeling calmer than she had in a long time, snatched the bottle again, foregoing the glass this time in favour of downing a gulp. Tomorrow she would continue the battle with her demons, but right now she was going to remove the gruesome scene from her mind by any means necessary.

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Sano slouched down the corridor towards the roof. He had avoided the mad dash when the fire alarm had gone off, waiting until he was sure it was all over before heading upstairs to see if everyone was all right. Why bother fussing and running round trying to extinguish things when other people seemed more than willing to do the work for him.

Anyway, a small part of him hoped just a tiny bit that someone would be hurt enough to call in the beautiful doctor, preferably Jou-chan since that would make her arrival all the quicker. He grinned widely. He'd get her to forgive him for his past and the mess up on the roof even if it took all his substantial charm. After all, who could stay mad at a face like his? Stroking his chin, he patted his cheek happily. He'd forgotten his bruises, however, and winced at the twinge his touch caused. Hopefully, his Kitsune liked her men a little rough looking.

Reaching the stairs to the roof, he stood aside and nodded at a couple of men coming down carrying extinguishers and covered in soot. Perhaps the blaze had been worse than he'd thought.

He took the steps two at a time, a little worried now. There was no one up there, but the ground was charred black and dirty scraps of material flapped in the now icy gusts of wind. He swore softly. It had been bad and now his favourite romantic spot was ruined until they could get the roof redone. Scowling, he turned to go back down. That would teach him to give away his trade secrets to amateurs. Battousai was going to get a piece of his mind whether he ended up dying for it or not. The man was a serious menace to his playbook and he needed to be stopped. Sano was going to have to actually do some work to get action now. He ignored the little voice that reminded him that that was the case anyway.

He found the red head coming out of Kaoru's room looking agitated and immediately changed facial expressions and tactics. It was one thing to have a go at a calm Battousai, but it was an unwise man who took him on when he was already angry.

'What's up?'

Sano leaned against the opposite wall, catching a glimpse of debris littered carpet as Battousai slammed the door.

'I cannot find her,' Battousai bit out gruffly.

He was obviously not amused by the fact.

'You lost her again?' Sano grinned cheekily. 'Man, you really need to get a leash for that woman.'

Battousai turned to look at him, furious amber eyes shaded by his bangs, and Sano instantly sobered. Clearly not the right thing to say.

'What happened?'

The red head raised his hands helplessly, bemusement replacing anger as he seemed to crumple inwards.

'We went up to the roof as you advised. Everything was going well. I had laid out candles and comforts and I returned her bokken to her.' Battousai ran a hand through his bangs, pushing them away from his face. 'Then she kissed me.'

Sano, who had been nodding along pretending any of this was interesting to him, nearly choked on his own air.

'She did what?'

He struggled to regain normal breathing function as he coughed.

'Yes, she suddenly pulled me to her and kissed me.'

Sano let the largest grin yet spread across his face, spanning from ear to ear. So his advice had worked, just wait until he told Megumi. She'd think the apocalypse had hit.

'That's great, man.' He slapped Battousai on the back. 'So then you guys got a little too excited and knocked over the candles I leant you, right?'

He gave Battousai a teasing push.

'No, she…something happened to her and she knocked the candles over. Then, while I was busy putting the fire out, she ran off and now I can't find her,' Battousai growled in frustration. 'That woman is so damn confusing.'

Sano laughed, smacking his friend on the shoulder.

'Welcome to the real world, man. Women don't make sense.'

Battousai shook his head feverishly.

'She was so scared though, Sano, she was screaming and she wouldn't even let me touch her.' Battousai's voice was a pained whisper. 'I don't know what I did and now I can't find her.'

Sano turned solemn with his friend's distress, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. Thinking hard, he drew his eyebrows together as though in pain.

'You know where I'd be if I needed to chill?' He said, scratching the back of his head. 'The bar.'

Battousai snorted, pushing him away.

'No, really, I'd put even money on her being in the ballroom,' Sano said in all seriousness. 'It's where I found her before. She seems to like it in there.'

Sano was right. When they reached the ballroom, Kaoru was drooped forwards in a barstool, an empty bottle of whiskey in hand and her head resting gracelessly against the counter. As they approached her, they could hear her humming tunelessly to herself. With the amount she seemd to have drunk, Sano was impressed she wasn't out like a light. Jou-chan could hold her liquor.

Standing back, Sano held in a laugh as he watched Battousai go to her side, whispering something to her before wrestling the bottle from her grip and making to lift her from her seat. She beat ineffectually at him, cursing colourfully in a way that put Sano's vocabulary to shame and grasped a strand of Battousai's hair, yanking as she slurred at him to let her go. He ignored her, loosening her fingers gently and picking her up bridal style. Seeming to give up the battle, she grumbled something about stupid red heads always having to be in control, dropping her heavy head to his shoulder, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck and, for all intents and purposes, passing out.

Sano turned away embarrassed to intrude on the peaceful moment as Battousai turned his nose into Kaoru's hair, sighing deeply as he curled her little body closer to his and began to carry her from the room. It always astounded him how tender Battousai was with his woman. She didn't realise it, but it was she alone who could get away with swearing and beating at the red haired man without losing anything vital in the process, drunk or not. His mind flashed back to a memory that mingled his amusement with sadness.

'_Sessha can't do it,' Kenshin moaned desperately as he fell back onto the black leather sofa beside his friend. 'Every time he tries, his mind goes blank and he just sits there looking like an idiot.' _

_Sano laughed, flicking the television off now that his first source of entertainment had returned home from his date._

'_Didn't go well, huh?'_

_The other man dropped his head back against the cushions with a thump._

'_Sessha had it all planned this time, Sanosuke, the flowers, the carriage ride in the park under the stars, the dinner on Katsura's yacht.' Kenshin ran a hand through his hair. 'Then he opened his mouth and the words just wouldn't come out.'_

_Sano looked over at the forlorn, little guy beside him and grinned wickedly, an evil thought crossing his mind. How far would the red head go to make the perfect proposal to his girlfriend? _

'_Well, there is one thing you haven't tried,' Sano offered slyly, watching for the reaction to his next words._

'_What? Sessha will do anything!' Kenshin promised, sitting up to stare at him with hopeful violet eyes._

_Sano snorted, trying frantically to hold in his laughter._

'_You could always pretend I'm the lovely Kaoru and practice on me.' _

_The expression on Kenshin's face was priceless. Sano nearly fell off the sofa he was chortling so hard. He stopped abruptly though, when his friend nodded firmly and got up from his seat._

'_Very well, Sanosuke, if you think it will help.' _

_The spikey haired fighter nearly choked on his own horror as Kenshin got down on one knee and looked solemnly into his eyes._

'_Wait, man, I was kidding!'_

_The red head ignored him as he began to speak._

'_Kaoru-dono, will you marry Sessha?' _

_There was a moment of silence, Sano trying to think of a nice way to break the news to his friend. Finally, he just rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably._

'_That was pathetic.' _

_A defeated look spread across Kenshin's face and he slumped down into a sitting position on the floor._

'_Sessha knows,' he whispered. _

_Sano couldn't help but take pity on his dejected looking friend, standing up and rolling his shoulders._

'_All right, I'll show you how it's done, buddy, no worries.'_

_He gave Kenshin a nudge with his foot, indicating that he should take his place on the sofa. Then he got down on one knee as Kenshin had done. Grasping the other man gently by the hand, he grinned at the awkwardness this caused and laughingly began to mimic the red head's odd speech._

'_Kaoru-dono, every moment you are apart it makes Sessha's heart ache with loss. The thought of his life without you is impossible, that it is. He knows that you have only been together for a short time but to him heaven without you would be like hell. Kaoru-dono, would you marry Sessha?'_

_Kenshin stared openly at the slick-talking charmer, who slouched back on the floor smirking._

'_And that is how you make a woman melt, my friend.' _

_The red head nodded thoughtfully and shooed Sano off the ground. As he kneeled once again, Sano started to get into the swing of things, covering his mouth with one large hand in mock shock as Kenshin took the other._

'_Oh my, Kenny, what are you doing?' he said in a high-pitched voice. _

_Kenshin snorted. If that was meant to be Kaoru-dono then Sano was failing miserably. Shaking his head, he calmed his mind and, taking a deep breath, began to talk. _

'_Kaoru-dono, Sessha knows he does not deserve you and that you have only been seeing each other for half a year, but life without your sweetness would be as hell to him. Sessha will have to be selfish, Kaoru-dono, and ask for what he craves, that he will. Will you marry Sessha?'_

_He then pulled a velvet-covered box from his pocket, opening it to reveal a pure white diamond inside surrounded by tiny sapphires the colour of the sky on a clear day. It must have cost him a fortune. Sano let out what was meant to be a girly shriek and threw his arms around Kenshin's shoulders, nearly knocking the other man over._

'_Oh Kenny, of course I'll marry you.' He slapped his friend on the back as he pulled away. 'Seriously though, man, if you do it like that, your Kaoru-dono will be melting at your feet. Not that words matter when you have a ring the size of China to give her.' _

_Kenshin looked so happy it made Sano wonder what it would be like to want someone that badly._

It was a pity that his friend had never got a chance to make his long stressed over proposal. The next day they had heard the rumours of danger to Kenshin's precious little female and it had taken less than a second for the Battousai hidden beneath the demure façade to be reborn.

Sighing, Sano watched as the red haired man carried his woman towards the door, feeling a flood of anger at the unfairness of the world.

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Misao sat on the large tree branch she now called her uncomfortable home, swinging her legs and watching through her binoculars as the men put the blaze out on the roof. She counted at least twelve and there were undoubtedly more crawling around somewhere in the woodwork.

Stretching her arms above her head, she played the earlier scene over in her mind, a frown turning her usually smiling lips down. What the hell was Kaoru playing at? She had felt both outraged and a little perverted watching her friend make out passionately with the man who had stalked and kidnapped her. She couldn't help wondering what had happened in that house in barely a day to turn things so rapidly around. All she did know was it was becoming pretty clear that Kaoru was losing the plot, especially when she'd proceeded to nearly burn herself alive, for what reason Misao couldn't gather. Some kind of sick penance for her actions, perhaps? Kami only knew the woman was capable of punishing herself for the most ridiculous things. The petite woman still remembered the time Kaoru had clumsily dropped and broken one of the poison tipped combs Aoshi-sama had bought her as a present. She'd been distraught, of course, but had realised perfectly well it had been an accident. Kaoru had spent weeks refusing to be fed anything but what she made herself in atonement.

Misao shook her head and began nervously spinning a kunai around her fingers. She had to get in there, no more waiting around for the perfect opportunity. Kaoru needed her now. Yet for that she would require help. There was no way she was getting into what she had dubbed the Devil's lair on her own. She couldn't go to Aoshi-sama though, that would be admitting defeat, that he was right and she couldn't manage alone.

She had been surprised when her Okashira hadn't followed her. A part of her had expected him to track her down and drag her back after her blatant disregard for his orders, another almost a little disappointed when he hadn't. She was not naïve enough to think he wouldn't be able to find her if he wanted though or even that he or another of their organisation wasn't watching her right now. She couldn't sense anyone but that didn't mean there was no one there, despite what Hannya had promised.

She thought back to her first day after leaving the compound. She'd done everything her training had instructed her to do, abandoning any and all electronics, including her precious mobile phone, her mp3 and her watch. Then, when she was certain of Kaoru's fixed location, she'd returned to the city by train at the busiest commuting hour and carefully shoplifted a few necessary items from mass-produced selections in jam-packed department stores, knowing that they wouldn't be missed. She had avoided every cctv camera along the way.

All the same, it hadn't been enough. On her way back with the evening rush, a payphone had rung just as she'd walked passed. Ignoring it, she'd continued her progress down the street only to have another phone ring seconds after she'd rounded the corner towards it. A little spooked, she'd forced herself not to break step, joining the people around her in looking at it quizzically. Then, lastly, a couple of blocks later, having finally relaxed, an inoffensive-looking man, who had moments earlier been about to step into a cab at the kerb across from her, came rushing over, dodging blaring horns as he did so and brandishing his handset. Shoving it into her hand with an expression of pure terror on his face, he'd escaped into the crowd before she'd had time to even open her mouth.

More than a little shaken now, Misao had tentatively raised the cell to her ear, unable to chase after him without drawing even more attention to herself. She'd almost dropped it, however, when the flat tones of her leader's second had reached her.

'Misao, no one will be following you,' Hannya had informed her, getting straight to the point. 'Good luck.'

With that, he had hung up, leaving her standing in the middle of a hectic pavement, annoyed people jostling her on all sides.

She pondered briefly what the masked man could have said to make someone simply give their phone to a complete stranger on the street. In this technological age when no one could live without their communication devices it would have had to be a serious threat to make them do it.

Shrugging it off as yet another mystery to add to the many enigmas surrounding him, she turned back to the business at hand. She had just loaded another heap of pressure onto her shoulders. Hannya had helped her and trusted her to cope alone. She would not let him down and she would prove her worth to Aoshi-sama even if it took everything she had. But for that, she was going to have to find back up outside the Oniwabanshu. The question was who?

**Author's note:** So there you go! Let me know what you thought. Was it too dark? I'm going to try and avoid putting too much in, but there is going to be some. Tell me if it pisses you off. Are you getting bored of the unanswered questions? I will answer them all so bear with me.

Japanese terms:

Dono- very polite honorific

Kami- God

Sama- very polite honorific

Sessha- unworthy one


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's note:** Ha, I'm very proud of myself, another chapter written and no studying lost. Bow before me mortals! Anyway, there are no flashbacks in this chapter, I have just realised, so we must have pretty much caught up with present time, this means we might actually get somewhere with the story. Anyway, there's nothing too dark or disgusting in this chapter, unless you count kissing as being gross. Hope you all like it. Read and Review, my dear readers.

**Chapter Six**

Aoshi sat at the head of the long conference table, his eyes staring at a point somewhere above the door. The room was all shining stainless steel and pure white walls, lending it a cold air to match the Okashira's mood.

The spies sitting down either side of the table didn't move or make a sound, professional even when off duty. These were the elite, the best of the best assembled in one room, a feat never before accomplished in the history of espionage. Bad blood ran deep in this line of work and to put a lot of these men in one room together was like asking for an underhanded, subtly executed fight to break out. But then Aoshi was never troubled by things that had never been done before, just because they hadn't didn't mean he couldn't.

'You are telling me that there is no trace?' His usual emotionless voice reinforced by an icy undertone which informed the room that he was not pleased with the news.

'Hai, we have looked everywhere, he is not to be found in Tokyo or its surrounding area.'

Aoshi would have dragged a hand through his hair and yanked on it out of pure frustration if not for the fact that it would show how much he needed the information. A show of weakness in front of others was a chance for them to use it against you, especially spies like the ones he had gathered. If they scented even the slightest vulnerability they would tear him to shreds. So instead he contented himself with taking one long steadying breaths and imagining the dojo he would be letting his pent up aggression out in later.

'Very well, I appreciate your efforts.'

It was a dismissal and everyone knew it. They stood with the same graceful silence as they had sat, not even a rustle of clothing to mark their presence. The only sound in the room was the clock on the wall ticking away time.

Aoshi continued to sit long after everyone had left, feeling a hollowness in his chest that only Misao's energy could fill. He had to find his location soon if he was going to prevent her from doing anything drastic. If Misao took on the Battousai she would lose and he had already been warned if it was between another death and what he thought to be Kaoru's protection the man wouldn't even hesitate. He screamed inwardly with the frustration. She just didn't understand what was going on. He had to find the hideout soon before things got even more complicated and deadly

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The pounding in Kaoru's head felt like a thousand angry Yahikos swinging bokkens while joining a thousand hyper Misaos in bouncing off her cranium. She rolled over, trying to ease the ache and only succeeded in sending another stab of white hot pain flashing behind her eyes. Parting her chapped lips, she groaned softly and even this made her head feel like it was cracking open along her hairline.

Foolishly, she didn't take this as a warning and forced herself into a sitting position. The world immediately tipped on its axis, flooding her with nausea. What was it with this bedroom and her finding herself with splitting headaches? She eased back ever so gently, another wave of queasiness making her stomach lurch.

She didn't try again for a while, slipping in and out of consciousness, and it seemed like hours, but was probably only a few minutes, before she could summon the will to move again. She needed water, her parched throat feeling like something had up and died in there, and then coffee, lots and lots of life-giving coffee. Coaxing her sore body up in bed, she promised herself another nice relaxing shower.

As she scooted carefully from the sheets, her feet caught on the material, twinging threateningly and forcing her to hobble to the door like she'd been wearing some seriously brutal heels the night before. She definitely hadn't, she was quite sure. Either way it was clear that she wasn't at her best, not even thinking clearly enough to realise that exposing her retinas to the sudden bright light outside her room might be a very bad thing. Instead, after fumbling her way slowly over, she flung it open and promptly stumbled backwards, crying out in agony and landing on the floor. She felt like some irate vampire caught by daylight, hissing and covering her sore eyes. Once again, she wondered why this room seemed to hate her. This was the second time she had found herself on her ass while trying to go out the door.

After several attempts, she finally managed to get her eyes accustomed to the difference in illumination between her room and the corridor outside, making her painfully slow way to the bathroom.

But even when inside the shower she couldn't enjoy the soothing spray of heated water, her feet forcing her to turn it down to a near freezing temperature. By the time she had towel dried her body and hair, she had the urge to slam her forehead against the wall in an attempt to knock herself out, hopefully saving her from the steady beat of her heart in her skull.

She stood at the sink for long moments, sipping water from one of the tooth mugs and contemplating the shadows behind her eyes, the ones that told of her countless fears. It seemed she never slept without the aid of something any more, be it carefully manipulated pressure points when she was captured rendering her unconscious, or large amounts of poisonous alcohol. At least that's what she fuzzily recollected had caused this occasion's pain, whiskey if she could trust her own memory.

The thought of liquor made her gorge rise and she hurled herself at the toilet just in time to rescue herself from a very disgusting clean up later. Sobbing pathetically as she wretched, she cursed herself. She was never going to drink any form of spirit again in her entire life. Lying down, she pressed her sweating brow against the cool tile and tried to pluck up the courage to sit upright again. The need to brush her teeth and gargle away the bitter aftertaste of bile was increasing by the second.

For long moments this idea seemed unfeasible, however, Kaoru unable to tell the floor from the ceiling with the way the world swam around her. Finally, though, with much pausing to allow the spinning room to stabilise, Kaoru managed to prop herself up against the basin and then lower herself inch by inch onto the toilet seat beside it. Grabbing the pink toothbrush she assumed someone had thoughtfully left in the stand for her use, she began to thoroughly scour her mouth.

When she'd done this several times, she splashed her sweaty face with cold water and tried to think back to what had left her in this mess. She'd been in this room, she remembered that clearly enough. Then…Yes, then Battousai had brought her clothes and taken her to the roof. She couldn't help smiling at the vision of bright stars and swaying candles that passed through her mind as this came back to her. It had been so breath taking, so heartwarmingly sweet that even with all that had happened she was touched by its thoughtfulness.

This good feeling didn't last long, however, a chill she hadn't yet felt even standing in the nude setting goose bumps spreading across her body. She could have hit herself regardless of the increased pain it would have caused. Idiot! She was such an idiot! She'd kissed him and, of course, let it all flood back, all that hideousness she'd managed to lock away. Strangely though, she couldn't feel the same way about that night as she had. The fear, the sense of being unclean, were all still there, but that niggling doubt, the same one that told her she was missing something, kept gnawing away at the back of her mind. She realised with a sudden shock that she simply couldn't hate Battousai any more. Kami, maybe she _was_ losing her mind.

Sighing heavily, she decided to let it all go for now. Her brain was just too fried to cope with this overload. Making her way steadily over to the crumpled, scruffy looking heap formerly known as her outfit, she grimaced. There was no way on earth she was putting those back on. Instead, she reverted to her earlier plan from the night before, scurrying as quickly as she could across to her room in her towel and hoping against hope that the large intricately carved wardrobe in the corner wasn't only for show and actually housed some wearable attire.

As she opened the door she half expected Battousai to be waiting for her, brandishing some article of his clothes so he could not so subtly ogle her in the utterly covetous way that made her stomach clench. Though, thinking on it, she doubted even he could find her attractive in her current bedraggled state.

Somehow, she managed to juggle the dirty bundle in her arms, the towel around her body and the finding of the light switch all in one go, a fact which made her very proud, considering she was also contending with the constant need to kill something.

The wardrobe yielded no fruits for her labour and even when she slammed the door hard enough to make the heavy object shudder violently, it remained stubbornly uncooperative. She felt like screaming, but knew that this would only send more painful jolts through her already abused cranium. So, instead, she contented herself with a harsh kick to the footboard of the equally abused bed, forgetting that her feet were in no better state than her head.

Howling in agony, she hopped backwards, trying vainly to keep both throbbing feet off the floor at the same time. She caught the backs of her knees on the end of the bed and flopped onto it, flapping her hands helplessly over her sore skin. She hated burns with an eternal loathing. The pain was always worse than broken bones or cut flesh to her, the sting escalating with each passing second and jarring through her nerve-endings every time she bumped the wound. She'd singed herself on various occasions slogging over the stove and she couldn't keep count of the number of times she'd given herself friction burn sliding in the dojo, but this was much worse. She must still have been drunk not to notice how much it hurt to walk around.

Finally, the searing ache subsided enough that she could ease the tension from her muscles. Deciding to cut her losses, she crawled weakly back under the covers, careful to keep her feet sticking out in the cooler air. This just wasn't her day. Maybe if she just abandoned it as a lost cause and hid here for the rest of her existence, it would all just go away. She buried her face in the usually silky texture of the pillow only to find cotton against her cheek. That was odd, her hands definitely felt silk. Frowning, she pulled back to find she was face down in a neatly folded pile of clothes. On closer inspection, they turned out to be the original set that she could only assume she'd left strewn across the bathroom floor when she and Battousai had gone up to the roof. Had the Battousai washed her clothes and then left them folded on her bed? The thought of the possessive, quick tempered man folding clothing in a laundry room made her snort. Her Kenshin had often done those sorts of menial chores, taking apparent pleasure in the repetitive, boring work she herself had had an allergy to, but she couldn't even begin to imagine the real self he had hidden beneath doing such a tedious task.

Standing ever so gingerly, she pulled the clothes on quickly. The world seemed somehow less horrific with the prospect of the coffee she could now make in the kitchen downstairs. She could nearly taste the sweet, all-important drink on her tongue and she couldn't resist a moment longer, feet be damned.

The journey to the kitchen was arduous, the pain in her feet and head increasing with each second she stayed upright, but when she reached the swinging door leading to her salvation, she hesitated. The sound of laughter filtered through to her ears and she paused, her hand against the wood. She felt suddenly as though she were intruding, butting in on a place she didn't really belong.

'Kenshin, man, seriously, that pink gi you started wearing to practice was great, the colour totally matched your eyes.'

Sano's voice was a choked gasp.

'Shut up, Sanosuke. At least I don't go around looking like I just put my finger in a light socket,' Battousai's distinct baritone responded.

There was a dramatic intake of breath even she could hear from the other side of the door.

'I'll have you know this style is a real hit with the ladies, man. They like something to run their hands through while I…'

'No, really that is more than enough information,' Battousai cut him off and their mirth resounded to her ears once more.

Kaoru's heart ached for a moment with the need to hear that carefree sound directed at her. She missed the way she and Yahiko would banter back and forth without meaning a word of the insults thrown, or the way she and Misao would play fight when her hyperactive friend woke her at ungodly hours to chat.

Sighing, she realised it must look very strange, her standing there, hand raised as if to push her way in, but for a long time she couldn't bring herself to do it. Finally, though, the need for caffeine and a sit down was too great and she forced herself inside, head bowed and shoulders hunched in an attempt to reach the coffee machine unnoticed. Her efforts failed miserably, however, and the second the door swung open the two men fell silent, eyes boring into her back as she passed.

'How are you feeling, Koneko?'

She made the mistake of looking up, startled, straight into intense amber eyes, feeling instantly as though she could sink into them and never find her way out. It made her angry that he could so easily make her melt, frustration pairing with pain to make her volatile.

'Shut up and leave me the hell alone,' she spat, narrowing her eyes.

A flicker of something passed across his gaze, amusement and dark possession. He found her offensiveness funny? She hurriedly pulled her gaze away and scanned the kitchen for her goal.

'We'll take that as a not very well then, Jou-chan.'

Sano sat at the island a large grin plastered across his smug face and she felt the urge to punch it off. Instead, she picked up a rolling pin from its stand on the counter and threw it at his head. Sadly, in her energy-sapped state, it only barely managed to reach him and he dodged it easily.

'You're a violent drunk, Miss Kamiya,' Sano laughed. 'And I have to say alcohol doesn't do your looks much good either.'

She was so outraged she forgot her reasons for coming in. Picking up a salt pot, she prepared to use her best baseball pitching skills, pretending that Sano's face was the catcher's mitt, but Battousai caught her wrist and gently removed it from her grip.

'Allow me,' he whispered, his voice like crushed velvet against the shell of her ear.

His breath tickled the sensitive skin, making shivers run up and down her spine as he turned to the obliviously chortling man. Sano was still letting his mouth run away with his brain.

'How much did you drink anyway? A bottle? Man, I should take you out some time, teach you how to really down your booze. Kenshin's a waste, couldn't show you nothing. He's almost as much of a lightweight as you…Argh!'

Battousai had wandered unnoticed past Sano, hooking his foot around the leg of his seat and yanking the high stool from under him. The fighter landed hard on the tiled floor and sat for long moments, apparently too stunned to move.

'Ouch, man, that was uncalled for! I was just telling your lady the truth, sheesh.'

Sano rubbed at his backside as he got to his feet, a mock scowl on his face.

Shuffling a little on her sore feet, Kaoru still felt a little flame of warmth flicker through her at the game and the sight of Battousai's eyes on her, twinkling with mischief. She was so focused on this change of expression, so boyish and yet so seductive, that it took her longer than normal to realise the signal he was trying to give her. He was egging her on to attack Sano while he was distracted. Happy to oblige, she picked up the wet sponge in the sink a little ways along the counter and lobbed it none too gently at the back of the tall man's head. It made contact with a squelching noise and then slid slowly down his back, water droplets trailing after it.

Hooting with laughter, she doubled over, ignoring the sharp flash of pain and dizziness the movement caused, too caught up in the priceless expression on Sano's face as he spun to look at her. So distracted in fact that she didn't notice him fish the sponge up off the floor and pull his arm back to throw. She did notice, however, when Battousai's strong arms lifted her clear off the ground, spinning them out of range as the sponge sailed passed to hit the wall with a splat. Closing her eyes against the way the world and her stomach lurched, she breathed deeply through her nose, thankful, when he finally lowered her gently to one of the still upright stools. She had a suspicion he'd done it on purpose just to get her off her feet.

'I told you I'd protect you, Koneko,' Battousai said in an amused growl.

She wasn't sure whether she should thank him for rescuing her from a face full of soap or kick his ass for reminding her of the way it had felt when the ceiling had merged with the earth. She was saved from deciding when Sano began to whine, really sulking now.

'No fair! You guys are ganging up on me! It's two against one! I need a hot chick to carry round!'

She would have burst into giggles at the sight of the tall, shaggy haired man kicking the island's table leg like the petulant child he not so secretly was if she hadn't vaguely begun to register the way Battousai's hand was still resting against the small of her back, its heat radiating through her layers of clothing. Throwing him a sidelong glance, it seemed he hadn't even noticed his own actions and it felt so natural and safe and she was so confused about everything that in her hangover weakened state she couldn't bring herself to pull away. In fact, worse still, without thinking, she found herself leaning into his warmth, the need for comfort and sympathy too strong to resist. A tiny thrill made her shiver as he drew closer, the hand slipping to tighten around her waist in a clear sign of approval. Raising her head, she found his molten amber eyes trained on her, an indecipherable look on his face. Her tummy jumped, for once not out of queasiness, and she wondered with the way he was gazing at her if what she'd seen in the mirror had improved since she'd come downstairs.

She nearly jumped sky high when the peel of a doorbell sounded through the house, breaking the spell that seemed to have been weaving itself around them.

'Welcome back to planet earth, love birds.'

Sano had once again pulled up his own stool, his elbows propped on the island and his head leaning on folded hands as he watched them.

She tried to scramble out of the semi embrace but Battousai pressed a hand to her shoulder, holding her still, before slamming out of the kitchen, his exasperated muttering audible through the swinging door. Sano laughed heartily, wiping fake tears from his eyes.

'Kitsune has the worst timing. She is not going to know what hit her.'

He seemed to take such amusement from this fact that Kaoru felt the need to ruin his fun.

'Time for breakfast! How about the same as last time? That turned out better than usual,' she said in an overly cheery tone, making to get up from her seat.

She wasn't actually hungry, especially for her own cooking, but she really wanted Sano to feel at least a little of the pain she was going through at that moment. The said man looked at her, horror-struck, his usual lazy slouch shifting drastically as he lunged across the island to stop her.

'Hell no, woman, you're not ever going near that stove again! What you made last time was not food, it was tar.'

He stuttered to a halt as she glared up at him, changing his tune quickly as he noticed the knife block unfortunately placed at her elbow.

'What I meant to say, Jou-chan, was you're not feeling well. How about I make you my super secret, never-failed-before, hangover cure?'

He dashed to the fridge, lifting half a dozen things from its depths before carrying them in a precarious stack to where the eggs already lay. She watched with narrow-eyed suspicion as he threw the miscellaneous objects into a bowl, stirred and dumped them in a blender. The resulting snot green sludge looked even less appetising than her own extremely poor efforts and it smelled almost as bad as it looked. Scowling with renewed vigour, she stared at it skeptically as he poured it into a glass and placed it proudly in front of her.

'You're trying to get your revenge for my cooking by poisoning me, aren't you?'

Sano simply chuckled and pushed the glass closer.

'I think I'd prefer some coffee.'

'Just drink it, Jou-chan. Coffee only makes it worse.'

'Fine, an aspirin then.'

'Drink it!'

She mentally calculated her chances of survival if she drank his concoction. On the one hand she was pretty sure if she died Battousai would skin him alive and give the rest to this Megumi woman to let her medical students experiment on, but on the other, did she really want to take that risk? A more pronounced throb to her head was her answer and, wrinkling her nose disgustedly, she drank it down. Shockingly, although it was slimy and slid down her throat in a most disconcerting way, it didn't taste half as bad as she'd expected. All the same, she consumed it as quickly as possible, slamming the glass down with a grimace.

'It'll take a minute but the headache should ease up soon,' Sano said to her distractedly and she looked over to find him using a large metal spoon to check his reflection.

She held back a snigger. Apparently Megumi was quite the challenge. At that moment the door opened and the woman herself marched in, her expression harried. She looked as elegant as ever, though, long black hair falling down her back in a wave of enviable silk. Sharply tailored trousers and a cream blouse were immaculately pressed, not a single wrinkle marring their clean-cut lines as she moved. Kaoru felt immediately scruffy and insecure in her black sweatpants and old grey tank top, her hair still damp from her shower and tied back from her face in a haphazard, straggly ponytail. Then again, looking at the stunning doctor, she had no doubt that the other woman would have the same effect on even the most carefully groomed ladies.

Stomping over to the island, Megumi dumped the black bag Kaoru recognised from the last visit on the marble surface and began removing medical supplies from it.

'Miss Kamiya, I do believe you are the most injury prone person I have ever encountered in my life. Perhaps I should just move in and become your personal physician. It would save me a great deal of time and petrol money.'

Before Kaoru had a chance to snark back, the red head-banded idiot jumped in.

'I think that would be a very good idea, Kitsune, but I think you'd find being my personal nurse far more rewarding.'

The doctor turned a searing glare on the tall man, a pair of sharp scissors held menacingly in her grip where she had been about to cut open a pack of bandages.

'Shut up, Tori-Atama, or I'll cut off something vital to your virility.'

Shaken, Sano gulped audibly and slid a little further along the counter away from her. Kaoru burst into surprised giggles, taking the other woman in with a newfound respect.

'Tori-Atama? Oh, I like that so much I could kiss it! It's way better than Red-headband wearing idiot!'

Megumi looked at her carefully for a second. She had disliked Kaoru ever since their last meeting, the combined forces of her difficult behaviour and Battousai's intimidation driving her as near to a nervous breakdown as she was ever going to allow herself. Yet, simply by speaking those words, the other woman had succeeded in clearing the slate, the doctor feeling immediately more generously inclined towards her.

'Yes, it's his hair and the fact that he's always crowing about some stupidity he's just committed.'

They laughed like old friends as Sano grumbled off to the stove to make some breakfast, Megumi smiling at Kaoru for the first time since they'd met.

Even so, once the moment had passed, she was all business-like efficiency, reaching out to take Kaoru's wrist to check her previous wounds. They seemed to be healing well, the bruising already changing to a more subdued blue-yellow shade and the angry red cuts pink and scabbing. Whatever ointment the doctor had put on them was a miracle and the young kendo instructor itched to ask her for the recipe, the only thing holding her back the still icily superior air that surrounded the other woman.

After cleaning and re-bandaging the injuries with a little extra care for her patient this time round, Megumi turned to the more pressing matter of her burned feet. Kaoru hesitated, despite her admiration for the physician's skills, not remotely motivated to repeat the painful experience of earlier that morning. Megumi sighed impatiently.

'I don't have all day, Tanuki. Show me,' she ordered.

Kaoru gave her a withering look at the new nickname, understanding the insult to her dark rimmed eyes, the consequence of many sleepless nights. She would have thought a doctor would have more tact. Pointing a foot at the elegant lady, she adopted a haughty manner, trying not to wince at the way it smarted at the doctor's touch. She might not be able to escape having her injuries taken care of but she could at least make the other woman feel as much like a servant as possible. Megumi rolled her eyes, knowing perfectly well what she was doing and disregarding her prissy attitude in favour of accepting her cooperation. Grasping one foot after the other, she massaged some pale yellow cream into the flesh, careful of the raw skin.

'So how did this happen?' The doctor waved her hand at the now neatly wrapped feet. 'You know if you're not careful you're going to end up looking like Sh…'

Sano suddenly went into a coughing fit by the stove, his face turning as red as his headband. Kaoru looked at him with mild concern, but since the medical professional in the room ignored him, she deemed it safe to do so as well. He'd probably just tried to eat what he was cooking too quickly, idiot that he was. She waited for the other woman to continue, but she didn't.

'I knocked over some candles when I was on the roof and the cushions I was sitting on caught on fire. I didn't move in time.'

Megumi, who had been putting away her equipment, stopped abruptly and turned to look at her.

'The roof?' She asked nonchalantly. 'What on earth were you doing up there?'

Kaoru blushed lightly and began to contemplate the marble of the island's top very seriously. She should have thought of a cover story for this one.

'Well…you see…um…Battousai took me up there to look at the stars.'

She was too busy tracing the patterns of black and white to notice the dark glare Megumi shot at a sheepish looking Sano.

'I see. It seems that roof brings nothing but bad luck, doesn't it?'

Kaoru looked up at her confused, but Megumi didn't seem to be about to elaborate on this one either, so she let it go as just one of the lady's quirks. Then, Battousai walked in, his gaze immediately finding her where she sat on the high stool and everything else flew right out of her mind.

'If you are finished, I would like a word with Kaoru,' he said resolutely, the earlier playfulness gone.

Megumi nodded, snapping her doctor's bag shut and making her way back towards the door to the hallway.

'Yes, all done. Make sure to keep off those feet, Miss Kamiya. I don't want to come back and find them infected or inflamed. No pun intended. If you could just let me out, I will be on my way.'

Sano was at her side with a speed that put Battousai to shame.

'Allow me, Kitsune.'

He took her elbow and led her from the room, leaving Battousai and Kaoru alone in the kitchen.

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The icy silence that pervaded the space between them made even the usually boisterous Sano feel cowed.

'I don't have anything to discuss with you, Sanosuke,' Megumi said, pulling her arm from his grip and walking ahead of him towards the large front door.

Sano winced inwardly, to be called Sanosuke by the beautiful doctor was like the kiss of death. He was in way more trouble than he'd thought.

'Hey Kitsune, don't be like that.'

He caught up to her in two large strides and tried to step in front of her. She dodged smoothly and continued walking.

'What exactly should I be like, Sanosuke? Should I throw myself at your feet simpering and begging for attention? Should I feel flattered that you took me up to yours and Battousai's hook up spot?' She asked coolly.

She had tried being proud and aloof, pretending none of it affected her, and she was sick of it.

'Megumi,' Sano pleaded.

'No, don't worry. It's my fault. I should have realized that I was just another challenge. The thrill of the chase, right, Sanosuke? One in many for the playboy.'

She tried to even her tone, her voice sounding bitter and terribly hurt even to her own ears, but the dam had burst. Kami only knew why but she had started to open up to this man, had left herself vulnerable up on that roof and the second the kiss was over she was asked for cash to gamble away. Then to add to the humiliation she had now been told that Sano and Battousai took all the women they wanted to pull up to that roof to watch the infinitely starry sky. She felt like such a naïve imbecile.

'Megumi, listen to me a second!'

Sano blocked her path again and she tried to walk around him, knowing as she did so that it was useless. Even if she did get passed she would not be able to get through the locked door without his help. He grasped her firmly, yet at the same time gently, by the arm and spun her to look at him.

'Don't you dare insult me like that again, Megumi! I had every intention of never letting you go the second you gave in to me. You have to believe me, I don't want anyone but you!'

With that, he laced his fingers through her hair and brought his lips down on hers in a kiss.

Megumi growled angrily, biting down on his bottom lip as he slanted his mouth confidently over hers, a warning that she was still not happy, that he was going to have to make a hell of a lot more effort than this to win her forgiveness. A responding rumble vibrated against her hands and she couldn't help enjoying it.

Sano ran his hand boldly up her side to skim over her breasts and she moaned, raking her long manicured nails over his bare shoulders where she had pushed his white jacket aside. The pain made him groan softly, his free arm circling her waist to lift her more securely against him. He ran his tongue along the seam of her lip, but she played coy, refusing him entry as she pressed them more tightly together. Sano retaliated by lowering his hand to squeeze her behind, grinning against her as she gasped giving him the chance to slip inside.

Their tongues twined and danced in a battle for dominance that left them both breathless and warm. For a moment, Megumi was lost to it, the feelings and sensations running through her body drowning out everything else. Finally, though, she managed to jerk together enough self-control to pull back, bringing her knee up in a place that made him crumple and wheeze. She told herself that was her plan all along.

'You're going to have to do better than that, Tori-Atama,' Megumi informed him coldly, turning on her heel.

Sano opened and closed his mouth, the only sound escaping a strangled groan.

'Now, get your lazy ass up and let me out.'

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Kaoru sat, twisting her fingers round the bottom of her tank top, head lowered to avoid Battousai's eyes. She knew perfectly well what he wanted to talk about, had hoped he would just let her off. She had no wish to bring this back up right now.

'So, what happened last night, Koneko?'

He came to sit across from her and, though they weren't physically touching, his incredible presence was enough to bring goose bumps up on her skin. She noted vaguely that her headache had gone. Perhaps, Sano wasn't such a waste of space after all.

'I don't know what you mean,' Kaoru tried in a lame attempt to stall the inevitable.

He barked a low laugh.

'I think you know perfectly well what I mean, Kaoru.' At the use of her name, she made the mistake of looking up into his face again. His eyes bored into her own, dragging her in and preventing her from tearing her gaze away. 'I think I deserve an explanation.'

Her salvation came in the form of anger, red hot, mind-numbing anger. How could she know that every time she fumed like this, her eyes flashed in a way that made Battousai want to lean across the table and pull her against him, to change that look into something far more productive.

'Deserve an explanation?' she spat at him. 'You deserve nothing. I deserve not to have to deal with an unpredictable serial killer who won't let me go, I deserve to lead a normal life and I definitely deserve to be free of the nightmares of blood which plague my sleep and make me afraid to go to bed at night. You deserve nothing but the condemnation of the world for killing innocent people.'

The words spilled forth without her being able to stop them. She wasn't even sure she could bring herself to blame him for what he had done anymore but anger causes people to say things they don't often mean.

Battousai's eyes narrowed and his lips pulled back in a snarl.

'Kill innocent people?' His voice was deeper, hissed out between clenched teeth. 'Either you're under a gross misconception or you're calling the monsters, those so twisted by their own greed and influence that they believe they have the right to rape and steal, innocents.'

Kaoru stared at him for a moment. He was glorious in his rage, all roiling power and iridescent fury. She gulped and fought to retain her tenuous hold on her own ire. She failed. Her words came out shaky.

'How can I trust a man who calmly sliced another human being to pieces in front of my eyes?'

Confusion lit Battousai's gaze, changing the burnished amber to light gold, and Kaoru felt a wave of sickness wash over her that had nothing to do with her hangover. What must this man have done in his life not to remember turning another person into shish kebob? Finally, realisation seemed to dawn and he looked at her incredulously.

'He nearly raped you, Kaoru, how can you possibly feel empathy for that man?'

She turned her face away from him, unable to explain, and it seemed to incense him further. Grasping her chin, he jerked her face round to look at him.

'Don't you dare look away from me! How can you care about a man who pinned you down and tried to take something you were never willing to give? He took away your right to say no and yet you pity him his fate?'

Kaoru fought to remain impassive, even as horrible image upon horrible image was being forcibly replayed before her eyes. At her lack of response, Battousai seemed to lose all control.

'Very well, you want proof of the fact that I kill only the beasts who deserve to die, then I will give it to you.'

He was around the island and at her side in seconds, jolting her from her seat and into his arms with a snap of strong muscles. It shocked her that even in his haze of rage, he managed to heed the doctor's warning, keeping her off her feet as he marched them through the door. Praying desperately, her last hope was dashed as they came out into the hall, Megumi and Sano nowhere in sight to help her.

He moved so quickly the room blurred and she was jostled up and down. Once at his office, he kicked the door open, not even pausing before making his way over to the desk where he threw her down in the chair.

Going to a bookcase at the far end of the room, he simply shoved it aside as though it weighed nothing, books toppling from their shelves, revealing a large safe behind. He dialed in some numbers and swung the door wide. Inside it held file after file of documents which Battousai proceeded to heft and carry back to his desk. Dumping them unceremoniously on it, he turned to leave.

'Please feel free to peruse these at your leisure. Take all the time you need to establish my innocence. I want you to be quite sure of your conclusions.'

The door slammed shut with a force that made the furniture shudder.

Kaoru sat stunned and shaking for a long time before she managed to pull herself from her stupor. In the end she managed to clutch at enough threads of her composure to look at the files strewn across the desk in front of her. If Battousai was willing to provide her with the puzzle pieces she was missing, she was not going to pass up the opportunity.

With trembling fingers, she opened the first file and began to read the contents. They made her sick. She remembered this case, the politician Isao Takejima murdered on his way home from a late meeting in a seedier part of town. It had been established as a mugging gone wrong, but this file told an entirely different, horrifying story. Isao had been involved in the finance and control of several child prostitution rings, using the veneer of his high status within society to protect his sick needs. There were pictures enclosed of him doing things which made bile rise in her throat. She was forced to sit with her head between her knees for lengthy moments to prevent her losing what little she had in her stomach. It appeared that Battousai had found him on the way back from one of his many visits and had dealt with his heinous behaviour by running him through with his katana. How they'd judged it a robbery gone bad she had no idea, but she could only assume a cover up was involved to save the man's family the disgrace

The files after that were much the same, each one filled with details of the assassinations of men, and occasionally women, who had been corrupted by their own power, twisting them into creatures unrecognisable as the upright citizens they used to be.

She found herself reading new versions of the lives of the most influential, deceased people in Japan, and it appeared rape and prostitution were merely the tip of the iceberg. Human trafficking, children forced into slave labour for sweat shops, the debts of the poor exploited for organs to give to spoilt, wealthy westerners, it was all there and it all made her nauseous.

Her head spun as she slammed the wheelie chair away from the desk. She couldn't take anymore, she was not even halfway through the files laid out in front of her, but she couldn't handle the things she was reading and seeing. These were not people. These were demons, pure evil brought to life. How could this have been happening right under her nose? Her father had known some of these people. She had attended some of their funerals. Of course, it had all been swept under the rug. They had died of heart attacks, strokes, falls off cliffs, muggings, anything other than the truth. They had been monsters cut down for their sins and, even with her own beliefs, she knew, just as she had with her own would-be rapist, that it was right. She couldn't hate Battousai for what he had done.

She stumbled away to the opposite side of the room, hiding behind the armchairs as far from the vile documents as she could reach. Curling into a ball, she sobbed, trying not to be sick. Kami, the world was all wrong, her naïve view of life had been stripped away to reveal a warped new reality she couldn't even begin to deal with. Everything she had believed, everything she had known was a lie. People she had respected were creatures of darkness, people she had loved might be betraying her and the monsters she had thought lurked in the shadows were really dark angels protecting those who could not protect themselves.

She didn't know how long she stayed that way before she felt strong arms encircle her form, pulling her against a warm body that rocked her gently back and forth, soothing nonsense murmured against her hair.

'Forgive me, Kaoru, I should never have made you face that. I just couldn't bear to have you think that of me any longer,' Battousai whispered, tightening his grip as she let out her grief, mourning the illusion of a world that never existed.

**Author's note:** Review please and I'm serious this time people, that little button that says '**go**' next to the bar that reads '**submit review**' is very important. I love reviews and the more I get the more I want to write. My goal is to reach a hundred reviews just so I can do a victory dance on the table at school and embarrass my friends. Come on, everyone wants me to embarrass my beta reader, right?

Japanese Terms:

Hai- yes

Kitsune- fox

Koneko- kitten

Tanuki- Racoon


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's note:** Wow, I just cannot seem to stop writing this fic, even when I'm supposed to be freaking out about my exams like my profile says. Ah well, it's all my English exams fault, getting me in the mood to write. Guys, I just spent the last eight hours writing with only occasional pauses to eat and drink, it is now two o'clock in the morning and I'm exhausted, I think I deserve some reviews! Anything will do, I'm officially addicted to them.

**Chapter Seven**

Misao slouched back against the alleyway wall, watching her last chance fade into the crowd of passers-by. The meeting had gone exactly as all the others had and she was left with a list of crossed-out possible candidates.

It seemed that all her contacts were willing to help the enthusiastic young spy at first. Even underground criminal networks found it hard to say no to someone as bright and persistent as her, but at the mention of the objective they all inevitably ran for the exit so fast she didn't have time to blink.

What exactly had she been expecting though? This was the Battousai, infamous and near unbeatable in a fight. He could undoubtedly take all one of these men at once, wearing a blindfold with one arm tied behind his back.

She sighed deeply, tugging on the end of her braid out of habit while she thought. There was only one person left and she didn't want to go to him. He was infuriating, self-important and she'd rather stab herself in the eye than owe him a favour.

An image of Kaoru's limp body disappearing out of a window came to her mind. She could have screamed in frustration. Her friend needed her, but to save her she'd have to make a deal with the devil. Of course, that was if he even chose to help her anyway.

She nearly jumped out of her skin as something began to vibrate in her back pocket. Frowning in confusion, she pulled out a sleek black phone and put it to her ear. How the hell had someone managed to slip her notice and get that in there?

'Misao.'

Her heart stuttered. She hadn't heard Aoshi-sama's cool voice in days when she was used to hearing it constantly. Kami, she missed that man. The pang subsided rapidly, however, with his next words.

'Misao, come back,' Aoshi commanded, his voice brooking no argument. 'You do not understand what you are dealing with.'

The sense of betrayal took her breath away and for a second she couldn't form words. Aoshi didn't say anything and she knew he was waiting patiently on the other end of the line for her submission. He didn't get it

'No. Hannya told me I was free to do this.'

'Hannya is not your Okashira,' Aoshi said and she could have sworn it sounded as though he spat the words.

It can't have been that though. It must have been a bad connection.

'You do not understand. There is a plan in place. If you go in now you will ruin it. Return to headquarters and…'

She didn't wait for the rest of the sentence, flipping the phone shut, dropping it to the floor and crushing it beneath her boot with clinical efficiency. Then she walked out of the alleyway and into the crowds milling beyond.

She squashed the hurt beneath the massive wave of anger she felt. Her leader not only believed her incapable of saving Kaoru, but, worse still, he thought she would wreck whatever scheme he had set up to do it for her. He believed she would fail. She would not.

She didn't have a lot of choice any more. It was either him or face Battousai alone, because there was no way that she was going back to face Aoshi-sama and Hannya without Kaoru at her side.

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Kaoru sat in the middle of a bed she didn't recognise, eyes wide open. He'd insisted on bringing her there after the incident in the office, saying that she needed to rest. She hadn't argued, too out of it to do much of anything really. Anyway, he'd seemed so frantic about fixing what he'd done she doubted he'd have listened. It seemed like she was spending half her life asleep, or at least passed out, these days.

She hadn't slept though. He'd gently carried her trembling body up the flights of stairs and along the corridors like she weighed no more than a China doll and when they'd reached the room, he'd lowered her ever so carefully down onto the mattress as though she really was made of porcelain.

The look on his face as he'd taken in her pallor and her tear streaked cheeks was enough to break her heart. It was a look of such pained guilt, such intense regret, that she'd almost felt it in herself. It reminded her a little of an expression her Kenshin used to get, only different somehow. This one was firmly lodged in the here and now, while the other had seemed to trap him far away, haunted. When he'd caught her gaze on him he'd immediately bowed his head, his hair falling forwards to obscure his eyes from her view.

Her perception of him had been so altered that she found herself unable to bear his suffering. Just as with her old Kenshin, she wanted that look to fade away. Without further thought, she'd lifted a hand to brush his bangs from his eyes and gently traced the strong line of his jaw, offering a comfort by physical touch that she could not yet vocalise in words. The amber of his eyes had lightened to a straw gold with his surprise and she'd hastily drawn away. The movement had been unpremeditated and it had shocked her almost as much as it had him. It was a telling motion, showing how much her view of him had changed, and she'd seen the flicker of hope in his eyes before she had dropped her gaze to the floor.

Now he was gone, having murmured some soft words about food, and she was left alone with her thoughts. She didn't regret what she'd found out. To have lived so long in a world she hadn't truly seen made her feel stupid and naïve. She would rather live her life with her eyes wide open, capable of doing something, than keep the rose tinted spectacles the rest of society still wore. She'd known that there were people like this, real life monsters, but they'd always been in the abstract, bulletins on the news and front page stories in the papers. She couldn't imagine what it must have been like to be burdened with this knowledge, to see these peoples' faces parading on the covers of magazines at fancy parties knowing what they'd done. A wave of pity washed over her for the man who she had so recently considered one of these creatures. He was their creation, the killer needed to stop their rot from infesting the rest of humanity, and she couldn't blame him for that.

Resting her head back against the cushioned headboard, she allowed her eyes to roam the room. It was dimly lit by the bedside lamp she'd turned on, the thick curtains closed against the light outside. It was the first place in the house she'd been in alone that had windows. They weren't big, but they were there. The sudden urge to see out of them, to see the outside world, made her heart ache. It seemed so long ago that she'd been locked away in this prettily decorated cage and so many things had changed since then. She'd changed.

She threw the covers away from her body and swung her legs over the side of the bed. It was only a short distance and she wanted so much to look outside. Tentatively touching each foot to the floor, she winced at the red hot needles that jabbed into them. It seemed to have got worse since the last time she'd been on them. Apparently the ointment for burns did not work as well as the cream for her hands. While they still bore the marks of the wounds, they no longer hurt. She wasn't giving up though, her eyes firmly locked on the prize.

Pausing long enough to let the initial pain subside, she was about to take the next step forwards, when the door opened and Battousai walked in, carrying a tray of dishes. They both froze mid movement, her foot suspended comically in the air and his mouth open as though he was about to call to her.

Between one blink and the next, she was swept up into the air against his chest, a very well-muscled chest she couldn't help feeling. She gasped in shock, floundering at first to find steady ground, before stiffening in his embrace.

'What do you think you're doing?' She growled in a very good impression of the man himself. 'Put me down. Now!'

He chuckled, inadvertently sending a shiver down Kaoru's back at the deep, warm sound.

'I don't think so, Koneko, you know Megumi's orders. Until she tells me otherwise you will remain off those feet.'

Kaoru huffed angrily, lashing out at him in her embarrassment. Even holding her, he still managed to avoid the blow and she ground her teeth in frustration.

'Now where were you off to when I came in?' He asked, eyes twinkling in amusement.

Apparently her actions earlier had brightened his mood, she noted sourly. They stood for long moments in silence, Kaoru sulking and Battousai waiting patiently for her answer, eyebrow raised. Finally, the smell of bacon and eggs wafting over spelled her doom. Her stomach growled hungrily and she blushed, spying the food waiting on a little table in the corner. How had he got the tray over there so fast? The man was a whirling dervish!

Even with her obvious interest, however, it seemed Battousai wasn't going to let her have it until she spoke.

'I was going to look out of the window,' she grumbled.

To her surprise, he plopped her back down on the bed and she opened her mouth to protest loudly. She hadn't eaten since her ill-fated attempt with Sano and that had ended up more in her hair than her belly. He wasn't abandoning her to her starvation, however, instead walking over to lift the table and its chair closer to one of the windows before taking her to join them.

'Eat, Koneko,' he said simply, smiling at her shock as he opened the curtains for her to look out.

The room lapsed into silence after that, broken only by the soft sounds of chewing and the scrape of cutlery. At first Kaoru was too absorbed in the delight of her taste buds as she practically inhaled her food, but once the last of it had been mopped up by the golden brown toast laid beside the plate, she turned her gaze to the scene outside.

The bars behind the glass made a checkered pattern, partially blocking her view, but she could still see the beautiful reds and oranges of autumn beyond. A breeze gusted against the branches of the trees, making the branches sway, and she watched some of the leaves come loose and float down behind the boundary wall. It was a peaceful sight and she sighed happily. It wedged in her throat though when her eyes caught a small figure crouching amongst the foliage.

'What is it?' Battousai asked, concerned, coming over to stand beside her from his lounging position on the bed.

Turning back to look at the spot where the person had been, all Kaoru saw was trees.

'Oh nothing,' she said, laughing awkwardly. 'I guess I'm just seeing things.'

The red haired man didn't seem convinced, moving to the window to gaze out suspiciously. It gave Kaoru the chance to rearrange her expression and think of something to distract him. She could have sworn, even from this distance, that it had been Misao.

'If I'm not allowed to walk, can't you get me a wheelchair or something?' she blurted.

She was anxious to draw his attention away, but this was also a question that had been weighing on her mind while she'd been eating. She'd do anything to avoid the awkwardness and mortification of being carried around like a baby.

A disturbing thought hit her then and her face contorted in horror. If he lugged her round all day, what would happen when she needed the toilet? The wheelchair suddenly sounded like an even better idea.

'Why would I get you a wheelchair when carrying you around gives me a reason to hold you? It would defeat the purpose entirely,' he told her, a wicked smirk on his face.

Kaoru scowled up at him. The words were sweet, the expression not so much.

'Not having a reason has never stopped you before, Battousai, and what exactly am I supposed to do when I have to go to the bathroom?' She grouched and he laughed genuinely for the first time since she had become reacquainted with him.

It was a rusty sound, as though he was no longer used to doing it.

'Don't worry, Koneko, we will figure something out.'

She gave him a very skeptical look, but he ignored it.

'So where would you like to go now?' he asked, scooping her up so quickly she didn't have time to struggle.

Kaoru froze in the act of opening her mouth to swear at him. She hadn't really got a chance to just relax in a long time, especially in this place where every time she set foot downstairs something happened to freak her out and she inevitably ended up waking in her darkened bedroom with a searing headache. What she really wanted to do was practice her sword style, something else she hadn't done in ages, but she highly doubted that Battousai would let her do that when he wouldn't even let her walk.

She caught him watching her with a slight, tender smile and she realised her face had scrunched into the look of intense thought her Kenshin had always found so adorable. Since they were the same person, she supposed Battousai must feel the same way.

'I guess I'd like to check out the library,' she said quickly to hide how flustered this thought made her.

He nodded, his bangs once again falling into his eyes in the way that would have driven her completely nuts. She felt an irrational sense of disappointment at the loss of the brilliant incandescence of his gaze, a chill pervading her as though it were his eyes that heated her skin. She shivered imperceptibly but he seemed to notice, holding her closer to his warmth as he made his way out of the room.

The doors stretched out before them in what seemed like an infinite corridor. It was probably just one of the many she had seen on her tour of the house, but with the embarrassment of being in Battousai's arms it seemed a lot longer distance to the main staircase than usual. These musings reminded her of her new living arrangements and she began to wonder for the first time why he had taken her somewhere else.

'Why wasn't I in my room?' She asked bluntly, apparently drawing Battousai from his own thoughts.

'I wished to keep you closer to me, Koneko,' he responded simply, the mischievous smirk once again in place. 'Besides, I took the demolition of your bed to mean that you didn't like the one you were in.'

She felt a slight blush colour her cheeks at the memory of the remains of her headboard littering the carpeted floor.

'Well, if you hadn't chained me to it your precious bed wouldn't have had to suffer that fate,' she said defensively, her eyes flashing angrily at him. 'And what do you mean you wanted me to be closer to you?'

Battousai shrugged as best he could while carrying her.

'Come now, Koneko, you can't tell me that you wouldn't have tried to escape if I hadn't chained you to the bed? Granted you tried anyway, but it was my fault for underestimating your willfulness.' He smiled almost fondly and her flush increased tenfold. 'I really do need you to stick around.'

Kaoru opened her mouth to ask why that might be, but he continued before she got the chance.

'As for your question, your new room is beside my own. Perhaps if I get lonely during the night I will pay you a visit. You can also return the favour whenever you wish, of course.' He laughed happily at her dumbfounded expression. 'Ah, Koneko, I have missed you.'

The words were whispered so quietly she wasn't sure she was supposed to hear them, but they made her feel a heady sense of elation that was only dampened by the shock the emotion caused her. When had she begun to feel joy in Battousai's presence? Excitement, yes, fear, certainly, but not happiness. A little voice in the back of her head told her it was around the time she realised she'd been wrong and he wasn't the cold hearted, murderer of innocents she'd thought he was. This annoying little voice continued by informing her that she was a hypocrite, that she was betraying her principles by saying it was all right to kill some but not others. Yet, just as with her would-be rapist, she could feel no pity or anger on behalf of these people who had given up their humanity and, in her opinion, their right to sympathy. It did, however, make her feel slightly guilty and it was at this point that his earlier words filtered through the haze of her thoughts.

'No, you will not be visiting me ever, at all, never while I'm asleep, got me?'

She poked him hard in the chest, taking full advantage of his inability to move away to inflict as much damage as possible in warning. It appeared to hurt her finger more than his chest, however, since he didn't even wince at the hard jabs and she was forced to stop her assault to rub the aching digit. Scowling at him, she elbowed him roughly in the solar plexus instead, causing him to yelp and nearly drop her.

'What was that for?' He gasped out, the twinkle in his eyes belying the outrage in his voice.

She chose to ignore the sneaking suspicion that Battousai had let her wind him in favour of feeling gratification at having got her revenge.

'That was for hurting my finger,' she pouted, waving it in front of his face crossly.

She suddenly found herself seated in one of the randomly placed chairs along the corridor. She assumed they were there not just to break up the monotony of the long hallways but also to work as landmarks for where in the heck you were in this fortress.

'Let me kiss that better for you,' Battousai purred.

Gently grasping her hand, he lifted the still pointing finger and brushed it lightly with his lips, his smoldering eyes fixed on her own dazed gaze. She gasped softly as he tentatively flicked his tongue out to pass over where his mouth had touched, and before she could form a coherent thought she was back in his arms and moving once again, his low chuckles hardly registering in her desire-fogged mind.

She was so distracted by his actions she didn't even realise when they reached the main stairs and then the library. She only came back to herself when she was carefully settled on one of the many comfortable velvet sofas that filled the room. Battousai stood in front of her, regarding her with a look of smug male satisfaction, her obvious preoccupation with his attentions pleasing him.

'I will get you a book, Koneko.'

He turned and walked into the stacks, not even bothering to ask her what sort of book she might be interested in. She was not upset by his arrogance, however, breathing a sigh of relief at his departure, and taking the time to compose herself and her rapidly beating heart.

She relaxed back into the soft plush of the sofa, lifting her legs to rest over the arm and contemplating her neatly bandaged feet. Her sudden injury prone turn was really getting on her nerves. Her wrist no longer hurt, but was beginning to itch as the skin knit itself back together and her feet were plain agony to walk on. She had to admit that she appreciated the care Battousai was taking with her, although she would never say as much to the overbearing man. There was no doubt in her mind that, if she had been forced to manage alone, she would have caused herself more damage in her stubborn refusal to give in to the pain. A twinge as she pressed her foot too hard against the armrest told her just how right she was and she bent her knee to smooth gently across the bandages keeping her from the tender flesh beneath.

When Battousai had yet to return a few minutes later, she began to wonder whether he had just left her there to see how long it would take her to get bored. She was about to go and fish an intriguingly bound dark red book from one of the nearest shelves, hurt feet be damned, when he appeared around the edge of the same bookcase, holding a stack of leather bound tomes in his hands.

'I think these should interest you,' he said, dumping them on the low coffee table strategically placed beside the sofa.

She turned to peruse his findings, a doubtful and somewhat superior smile curling her lips. There was no way he could know that she was looking into the arcane sword styles of the Sengoku period, paying particular attention to the samurai of that era and most especially one by the name of Uesugi Kenshin. She was, therefore, taken aback when she found the first on the pile to be the book she had been reading back at the safe house before her capture, and the ones beneath it to be ranging around that same topic.

'How did you know?' She breathed, hoping against hope he hadn't realised her specific attraction towards a samurai of the same name as himself.

It wasn't that which had drawn her attention to "The Dragon of Echigo." It was his prowess on the battlefield and his amazing strategic skills, or at least that's what she told herself. She fingered the covers of the books in awe, picking them up cautiously to flick through the pages.

'You were reading "The History of Sengoku Sword Styles" when I came for our reunion, were you not?' He shrugged negligently, as though he assumed that everyone would notice these sorts of tiny details while coming to kidnap former lovers. 'I thought that, perhaps, you would find some further titles in that area interesting.'

She gaped at him openly for several moments, before the pull of the enticing books drew her eyes away and into the realm of ancient battle styles. She was so caught up in her reading that she didn't notice when Battousai delicately lifted her feet to rest in his lap, opening his own book.

She didn't know how long they sat there, each absorbed in their own heavy historic tome, before she shifted and accidentally smacked one of her feet against the armrest again, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them with a pained yelp. She tried to curl her leg up against her body to massage the painful spot but Battousai quickly caught her ankle.

'Rubbing it will only make it worse, Koneko,' he stated firmly, as she yanked her leg, trying and failing to loosen his iron grip.

When she finally gave up, letting her limb go limp in a sign of defeat, he smiled, raising his hand to massage the tight muscles of her calves where she had tensed with the pain. An involuntary purr slipped from her lips and she slumped back against the cushions behind her, closing her eyes and murmuring incoherent encouragements. He chuckled quietly, reveling in the way she was opening herself up to him again. He deepened the press of his fingers against the yielding flesh and earned a soft moan from her lips. The smile that had been on his face faded slightly, transforming into something more intense with the sound, and he let his book drop on the little side table beside him to allow both his hands to work on making her release that noise again.

By this point Kaoru was as floppy as a sleeping child, her body sinking as far into the plush cushions as possible and her head lolling to one side, her face the picture of bliss. His nimble fingers were a sin, seeking out all the knots and strain she had gained through her years of kendo training and soothing them away.

'Hmm, Kenshin,' she murmured, and his hands instantly froze.

It took a moment longer for her groggy mind to realise why he had stopped, but when she did, she too tensed up. It had been a very long time since she had last said that name aloud. She tried to pull away, feeling suddenly caged, but he was having none of it. Trapping her ankle in his grip he returned his other hand to her calf and began caressing it, tracing invisible, intricate patterns on her skin. She forced her eyes up to meet his own and promptly wished she hadn't as she was ensnared in his fiery gaze.

'I don't mind, Koneko,' he said, his voice roughened with some great emotion. 'I want you to call me by my name and not my title.'

Kaoru swallowed hard, uncomfortable with her sudden three-sixty turn in feelings towards this man. She was used to the way his touch made her heart skip and her breath catch, but this new reaction was scary, a welling of some indecipherable sentiment constricting her chest. The brush of calloused fingers snagging slightly on her skin did nothing to clear her mind either, distracting her from finding its source. She needed him to let her go.

'Battousai, release me,' she ordered sharply.

He shook his head, intense eyes still trained on hers. It took her a little time to understand what he wanted from her and then she growled under her breath.

'Kenshin, please would you let me go,' she ground out from between clenched teeth.

He nodded, a beatific smile spreading across his face. The warmth in her chest swelled further at the way the expression chased away the shadows in his gaze. She couldn't bear to steal this newfound joyful aura from him, especially since she seemed to want the same thing he did. She settled herself more comfortably on the sofa and left her legs in his lap, lifting her book to cover her red face. Kami, she felt like a teenage girl again, taking the first tentative steps towards confessing her affection to a crush.

It took several minutes for the tension between them to fade, but finally they lapsed back into the peaceful atmosphere of before.

She was reading a passage in one of the more up-to-date books, contrasting the traditional katana to the guns of the modern day, when a question that had been nagging at the back of her mind forced its way forwards.

'Batt…Kenshin,' she began warily, waiting patiently for him to look up at her. 'May I ask you something?'

He nodded equally warily and she took a deep breath before continuing, knowing full well that it would shoot the calm in the room all to hell.

'Why is it that you use a katana rather than a gun to… ?' She couldn't find a word that didn't sound judgmental so she trailed off.

Battousai stiffened, his eyes probing her face for information she wasn't sure she was giving. He appeared to be trying to work out whether his answer would scare her, but in the end it seemed he decided to chance it and tell the truth.

'Even monsters deserve to face death head on and have the possibility to defend themselves,' he said gravely, watching her for her reaction.

'Are you calling yourself Death?' she asked incredulously and he smiled wryly.

'To them I might as well be,' he answered with that same solemnity that made her fight the urge to fidget in her place.

She wanted him back to his old self. Cheerful or seductive, it didn't matter as long as it took away this sudden sobriety. She decided it was time to play on his natural ego to pull him from this funk.

'What happens when you meet someone who's better than you?' she asked, a sly smile twitching the corners of her mouth.

Battousai seemed to catch on to her attempt to lighten the mood and latched onto it happily.

'I don't know. I have never encountered anyone who could match me,' he said, puffing his chest out in a show of pride. 'I doubt I ever will.'

She laughed and he turned mock hurt eyes on her, scowling. She shrieked as he abruptly lunged at her, careful to avoid bumping her feet, and began tickling her. She giggled, wriggling to escape his grasp and it was only his skill that prevented her from hurting her feet.

The door to the library slammed open and against the wall and they looked up, gasping for breath, to find Sano standing there, looking slightly uncomfortable and apologetic. Kaoru scooted back and lowered her feet, embarrassed as she realised instantly what they must look like to an outsider. Battousai was leaning over her, his face mere millimetres from her own and they were both flushed and out of breath. The red head growled low in the back of his throat, eyes flashing up at Sano in a promise of some excruciating retribution if he didn't have a good reason for interrupting them.

'Sorry about this, man,' Sano said sincerely, backing further out the door with his hands held up placatingly. 'But they think they've found…'

He trailed off, looking pointedly at Kaoru. She was busy pretending that nothing had happened, book pressed so close to her face the words must have merged into one big blob.

Battousai's gaze sharpened and he shot from the sofa.

'I will return shortly, Koneko.'

She nodded, dropping the book just enough to be polite and he darted her a look of longing that told her all she needed to know about his wishes. Then he followed his friend from the room, carefully closing the door behind them.

It was a long time before he returned and when he did, he was no longer the same. The playfulness was gone, replaced by a pensiveness and distraction that concerned her.

They stayed in the library for most of the day, Battousai leaving only occasionally to bring them food. She only had the mortification of asking him to bring her to the bathroom a couple of times and by the second they had established enough of a routine that she dreaded the process a little less. He would carry her to the small downstairs toilet and she would be allowed to walk the few steps inside and close the door. When she was finished she would simply come back out and he would lift her back into his arms. She supposed that when she wanted to wash herself it would go much the same way, only taking a bath instead of a shower.

She didn't pry into whatever was bothering him, worried that it was a mission she wouldn't want to know about. However, with his sudden distance, she could no longer focus on the books in front of her, the agitation making her antsy and desperate for the movement she was denied. Kaoru was one of those people who needed constant occupation when nervous or upset. If she couldn't have it, the perturbation became increasingly violent until finally she would explode on the next hapless person she saw. Unfortunately for Battousai, he was the only person in the vicinity, so all her energy was directed solely at him. It was probably a good thing though, since a normal person would have suffered a severe concussion when they were unable to dodge the six hundred page book aimed at their head.

This interlude appeared to snap Battousai from his temporary state of catatonia and he decided that it might be about time to have a change of scene. They ended up being coaxed into watching a very cheesy and incredibly gory martial arts movie with Sano, during which numerous people were beaten to death. Although it was a bad film, joining Sano in ridiculing the awful plot and even less plausible fight scenes did serve the purpose of filtering away some of the nervous energy that had mounted within Kaoru. So by the time ten o'clock rolled around, she was dozing off with her head resting against Battousai's chest.

After that first tension filled day, an unspoken schedule seemed to develop in the house. She would wake to the smell of freshly cooked food laid out on the little table and Battousai leaning by the window, looking at the world outside. Once she'd eaten, he would leave the room while she dressed, though that concession had required a long drawn out session of banter and, though she wouldn't admit it, flirting. Then he'd take her to the bathroom and let her move around alone for the bare minimum of time it took her to do her morning ablutions. For the rest of the day they'd be in the library, only stopping for short snack breaks. In the evening they would settle down in front of the large plasma screen television in the sitting room with Sano to watch one of the many kung-fu movies they had in their collection.

It was a rare time of peace in what had been one of the most terrifying points in Kaoru's life and she found herself steadily letting go of a little of the dread she'd built around silence. She still got the familiar pangs every time Battousai closed the door to her bedroom at night, but the thought of waking to another relaxing, people-filled day seemed to ward the worst of it off. She actually found sleep now.

Two weeks passed quickly in this way. Yet the tranquility couldn't last forever and it was inevitably shattered the morning after a visit from Megumi, who informed them that Kaoru was fine to be back on her feet.

She woke to find her breakfast laid out as usual and a present resting on the pillow beside her. She nearly cried with relief as she ran her hand up the smooth, polished wood of her bokken. The guilt at the thought of it burning up in the fire had been eating at her and she hugged it to her like a child finding a lost pet. Now she could finally practice.

She danced out of bed, enjoying the lack of pain at the enthusiastic movement. Scarfing down her food as fast as she could without choking, she was dressed and out of the room before the door had had time to fully swing open. She dashed down corridor after corridor perfectly confident now in her ability to find her way to her destination. Her bokken was a delicious weight in her hand and she couldn't wait to swing it through the air and make it sing.

She skidded to a halt outside the ballroom door, taking deep steadying breaths; she had obviously become more unfit than she had thought.

Kaoru swung the door open and her breath caught in the back of her throat as it went bone dry. Battousai was in front of her, shirtless and glistening with sweat as he slid across the polished wood of the ballroom floor, the shining metal of his katana hissing through the air. Even from distance she stood, she could see the intense concentration in his eyes, turning them a fiery shade of burnished bronze.

She swallowed hard, her eyes trailing over the body she had already seen before, but which was made all the more beautiful after her separation from it. It was true, absence really did make the heart grow fonder, or at least it made the body lust a heck of a lot. Tensed muscles slid beneath the skin of his back like iron under silk, as he sliced through the air with another powerfully arcing stroke.

His control was a thing of beauty and she stared in awe as he dropped low only to whirl back up stabbing forwards and then slashing to the side as if the invisible opponent had dodged his blow. Her eyes were once again drawn from his fighting style to his body, as his sweat slicked ponytail flicked away from his back and she watched a drop of sweat slide down it, dipping into the curves and sinews of his lean form, before disappearing into the waistband of his sweats. She licked dry lips and tried to draw a vaguely intelligent thought to her mind.

'Did you want to join me, Koneko?' Battousai asked, not even faltering in the next move of his complex kata. 'Or perhaps you would just like to watch me.'

Kaoru blushed a fetching shade of tomato red, but stepped forwards and fell into her defensive stance all the same. Battousai stopped to look at her, before going to a rack hidden behind the bar to pull out a bokken of his own, leaving his metal katana to one side.

'Bring it on, Big shot,' she goaded, crooking a finger at him in a deceptively come hither manner.

Battousai's eyes sparked with a darkness that made the hairs rise on the back of her neck. The adrenaline instantly began pumping through her veins, preparing her for the fight ahead. Kami, how she had missed this feeling. She didn't have time to take a breath before he was in front of her, her instincts the only thing saving her from finding herself on her backside, as she lifted her bokken in a sloppy block, the harsh cracking sound of wood hitting wood reverberating off the walls. The aftershock vibrated through her arms and she had to grit her teeth against the pain.

They moved across the floor at incredible speed, bokkens whistling through the air, meeting and parting in an elaborate dance of skill and iron will. She loved the fact that he challenged her, forced her to push that much harder, move that much faster in a way no one else ever had. She had fought him only once before and it had been a memorable experience. In the end she had had to resort to dirty tactics to get even a single hit on the unbelievably talented man.

_Kaoru sliced through thin air, the man she had been aiming at slipping easily out of reach and smiling tenderly at her in a way that made her growl._

'_Quit patronising, Kenshin, and just fight me.'_

_He laughed and came at her with a speed that snatched the air from her lungs. She blocked his blow, falling into the practiced backwards and forwards of defense and attack. Her bokken moved like an extension of her arm, she had become so used to it in her hand. Yet, still she felt the light touch to her leg, signifying that Kenshin had got a hit as he always did in the end. _

_She snarled, baring her teeth impressively and Kenshin raised an eyebrow at her. It was time for more underhanded techniques if she was ever going to make a hit on the infuriating male. Her eyes scanned the room and fell on the only decoration, a vase her godfather had given her as a congratulations present for the opening of her dojo, she had always hated it. Well, she could just kill too birds with one stone then. She grabbed and threw it in one quick motion. Kenshin caught it on reflex, his eyes widening in comic surprise._

'_Oro, Kaoru-dono?'_

_She was upon him in a moment and the dance began again, only this time Kenshin had the added disadvantage of the vase in his arms. She had him on the defensive, forcing him to block and parry while trying to avoid breaking the delicate porcelain. Then she saw it, a drop in his guard, it was infinitesimally small, but it was all she would need. A triumphant smile spread across her face as she went in for the kill, her bokken hissing through the air as it came down. _

_The sound of wood hitting wood rang through the silent room and she could have cried; he had managed by some miracle to defend against her swing. She watched in shock as he caught the vase, which he had thrown up high into the air, and gently tapped her on the shoulder with his bokken._

'_Shall we call it a day, Kaoru-dono?' he asked, a hint of smugness hidden beneath the veneer of humble politeness. _

_In that moment, she snapped. How the hell had he got himself out of that situation and still kept that hideous vase intact? _

_She stomped her foot angrily, before lunging at him and doing the one thing he would never expect; she kissed him. She heard a muffled 'Oro' as she took control, sliding her tongue against the seam of his lips and gently slipping in when they parted on a groan. The vase and bokken fell to the floor as Kenshin wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her closer. The vase shattered into thousands of tiny shards and Kaoru gave a little sigh of relief as its ugliness was removed from the world. _

_She smiled in victory as she lightly tapped Kenshin on the leg with the bokken still held in her hand. Pulling away, she laughed happily._

'_You owe me a boat ride, Kenshin.' _

_He pulled her back against him and chuckled._

'_If that is your tactic to win, Kaoru-dono, I think I will fight you more often,' he said against her lips._

They sat with their backs pressed against the wall, both breathing heavily and sweat trickling down their cooling bodies. Kaoru felt utterly satisfied, her muscles aching in the way only a great workout could give her. She slid down until she was lying on the ground, looking up at the ceiling.

'Koneko, there is something I must talk to you about,' Battousai said solemnly. She turned her head to look at him and found that he was staring dead ahead at the windows across the room. 'Sano and I must go away for a while. There is some business that requires are attention.'

Kaoru felt a little unwell. Did that mean they had a mission?

Intense amber eyes were suddenly trained on her face, as though he were trying to look into her very soul.

'You must promise me that you will not leave this house, Kaoru. Promise me that you will not try to escape in my absence.'

It was the way in which he used her real name rather than his pet name for her, paired with the sudden fear in his voice, that told her that he was deadly serious and she couldn't help but give her agreement to the terms. It wasn't like she wanted to be anywhere else any more anyway. She had grown to like it here with him over the past few days of captivity.

He pulled her against him almost roughly, as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

'I could not bear to lose you, Koneko,' He murmured softly against her hair.

The question was, why would her leaving the house mean losing her?

**Author's note:** Voila! Read and review, a poor author's work. No seriously, press that little button that says '**go**' by the bar that says '**submit review'** and write me a message, anything will do, just feed my addiction please.

By the way, the samurai Uesugi Kenshin is an actual famous daimyo from the Sengoku period, you can check him out on wikipedia if you're interested. Also for Japanese terms you can look back at previous chapters, they're basically the same.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's note:** Hello to my dear patient readers. I'm very sorry this took so long to come out and it's not as long as some of my previous chapters, I'm disappointed in myself. Anyway, my exams are over now (hurrah!) so the chapters should be flowing more regularly and, hopefully, more quickly. This chapter starts off pretty angsty I'm afraid, but I put in some happy, fluffy stuff at the end to balance it out. I hope it worked. I want to thank everyone who has reviewed so far, especially my regulars who make the effort to review each chapter. It makes me very happy to receive your comments, so keep them coming. I'm up to over 50 reviews now! And my hits are at over 6000! You guys have no idea how incredibly good that makes me feel. I love you all! Anyway, sorry for getting mushy, and here it is, folks, Chapter eight. I cross my fingers that you enjoy it. Read and Review!

**Chapter Eight**

It wasn't so bad during the day, the sunlight filtering through the windows and the occasional guard passing by, diminishing the sense of claustrophobia and isolation that ate at her when the last rays of the sun were strangled by the blackness of night.

She spent the day fighting the fear of the silence that came with dusk, forcing herself into a strenuous fitness regime that lasted most of the morning and left her body shaking with the exertion. She told herself it was to undo the damage of weeks of no exercise, but deep down she knew it was doing her more harm than good. She was pushing her body to collapse, yet she couldn't bring herself to care.

The afternoon was filled with the study of historic texts in an effort to stave off the tiredness that tried to pull her under into the bliss of oblivion. She would not waste her time of relative peace on sleep. Hell came when the darkness fell and she could not bear to lose her only time of sanity.

Night was a double edged blade, the darkness closed in on her, making her suffocate under the weight and with it came an unearthly hush that petrified her even more. She didn't sleep, it wasn't that she didn't want to, Kami how she wanted to, but her body refused to let her. It was like it was conspiring with the shadows and the silence to slowly, torturously kill her.

The horrors of being in solitary confinement were worse now than before, alone in her safe room. She had been given what she craved, like a starving man allowed to gorge himself on food, only to have it torn away again, and to be reminded of what it felt like to have conversation, companionship, made the loss of it all the worse.

She hardly ate, even though Battousai had purposely left her easy to prepare food like cereal and microwave dinners, her stomach was too full of anxiety.

So Kaoru's life continued, grappling to maintain some semblance of rationality in a world that had suddenly skewed into a blur of terror and peace. One moment she had calm, almost happiness in her reading and training, but the second the sunlight was drowned out by shadows, her mind fell into turmoil and the contrast was tearing at her.

It had been a week since Battousai's departure, even though he had said it would only be a few days, and she feared that if she didn't get some respite from this mental anguish he would come back to find only a shell of her former self.

Kaoru sat hunched in the corner of her room, unable to stand the openness of her bed. She knew that she must look insane, her hair wild from where she had run her hands through it repeatedly and her eyes almost feral with her panic. She clutched reflexively at the bokken which leaned against her shoulder, taking comfort from the slight pain as her tight grip caused the wood to dig into her hand. It gave her something to focus on, something other than the creeping obscurity that brought the stillness that ate at her soul.

She had tried staying up at night in the library to read, and even tried meditating in the ballroom where she had always felt most comfortable and safe, but it didn't help. She would still be tormented by the silence and the shadows. In the end she could no longer bear the open space of the ballroom where the darkness could close in on her or the library where the blackness was made even starker by the faint light of her lamp and the shadows thrown by the bookcases. Even when she turned on the all the lights she could find no peace. She had made the dreadful discovery that with the loss of the fear that came with claustrophobia from the inky blackness, the greater terror had reared its head. Silence. With that realization, she had come to find some sick kind of solace in the obscurity of the night, letting it surround her and bring a different milder form of fear to her weakening mind.

'Kenshin, where are you?' she whispered brokenly, pulling her bokken more tightly to her body in an attempt to fend off the eerily shadowed hush creeping up on her, as the faint light of the moon was doused by the ebony of clouded night.

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Battousai was antsy. A stranger would not have noticed anything other than a slight tension in his stance and even then only if they were very observant, but Sano could tell in the way his finger tapped the steering wheel as he drove and the nervous energy that fairly sparked from his eyes.

'Relax man, we're nearly there.'

Sano reached over to pat Battousai's shoulder in reassurance, but thought better of it when intense amber turned the full force of its frustration on him.

'Kenshin, calm down,' Sano used his rare serious tone.

Battousai glared and he held his breath for a moment, waiting for some kind of painful retribution for the sudden domineering attitude. There was none. Battousai deflated, sighing heavily and lifting a hand from the wheel to push his bangs from his eyes.

'I'm sorry, Sano,' he said tiredly. 'I just have a bad feeling that something's gone wrong. This was all a waste of time again and we still haven't found even a shred of evidence that he even exists and yet he is there, putting her in danger, and I can't seem to do anything about it.'

He slammed his fist against the wheel and snarled quietly.

'What was the point of returning to this hell if I can't protect her, damn it.' Sano placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder now that he had calmed down somewhat.

'We have time, man. Jou-chan is safe at the house and there's no way even they can get in that place and get out alive again.'

At that moment they rounded a bend and the house, which had been shielded from view by the towering trees, came into sight. The wrought iron, barb wire tipped gates opened for the inconspicuous black car to pass through and then clanged shut behind it with an air of finality that reassured the occupants of the vehicle.

Everything was perfectly normal, the moonlight outlining the guards patrolling the grounds with submachine guns slung over their shoulders and sniffer dogs at their sides. The tension seemed to drain from Battousai's frame in a way no amount of reassuring words or friendly banter could achieve.

'What did I tell you, man, nothing to worry about?' Sano slapped his back genially and started the arduous task of opening the many locks on the front door. 'I'm gonna go take a long shower and get a good night's sleep.'

Battousai waited patiently a short distance behind him, eyes roaming the grounds. He could sense something different tonight, he just wasn't sure what. Then it hit him. Where was the little hyperactive weasel girl? She had been in one of the trees on the west side since Kaoru's arrival, waiting in frustration for a chance to strike and unable to find one. He had been amused, when he had brought Kaoru back here, to feel the young woman's ki following them, but hadn't been very perturbed by it. The Itachi could do nothing to him and was definitely not a threat to Kaoru. Yet she wasn't here anymore. Perhaps she had given up? No, that wasn't her style, especially when she believed her friend to be in danger and trapped with a psychopath. She must have gone for backup. He would tell the guards to increase security detail and make some rounds himself to make sure they were undisturbed.

Finally the last lock slid back and the door swung open, allowing the two exhausted and grateful men to make their way inside. Instantly Battousai froze in place, his senses tingling and telling him something was very wrong. Sano was still perfecting his plan of action, mumbling about getting a large amount of food and sake before bed and how good his shower was going to feel.

'Kaoru!' Battousai was a blur of motion, up at the top of the flight of stairs before Sano had even registered that he had moved.

'Kenshin, what's going on, man?'

'Check the perimeter,' Battousai shouted over his shoulder.

Sano didn't get a chance to respond as Battousai was already gone, corridors away and out of earshot. His heart and mind were filled with one thing and one thing only, Kaoru. Was she alright? Her ki was so volatile and troubled. It roiled and wavered in a way that screamed her fear to the world. Kaoru was scared, no terrified, and Kami help whoever was causing his precious Koneko this pain.

His thoughts raced as fast as his feet. Could it be that Misao had gotten into the mansion after all? No, Kaoru wouldn't be scared if it was Misao. He slammed open her bedroom door, hand already on the hilt of his katana and ready to tear the mysterious person to shreds.

The sight that met his eyes nearly brought him to his knees. Kaoru was in the far corner of the room, cowering like a trapped animal, her eyes flashing wildly in the sudden light from the door. The set up of the scene was so painfully reminiscent of his own paranoid hit man days, when he used to sleep with his back against the wall rather than in a bed because it was too open and left too much possibility of attack. His katana would rest against his shoulder, just as she held her bokken now, so he could draw it from the sheath at a moment's notice, and he didn't doubt that, if he had been woken by a threat, he would have had some of the same animalistic quality.

'Kaoru?' he breathed, moving forward after a scan of the room revealed that there was no threat to be dealt with. 'Kaoru, what's wrong?'

She stared up at him fearfully for a long moment without seeming to recognise who he was and he realised that with the light behind him, his face must be completely shadowed from her view.

'Koneko?'

He crouched down in front of her to be at the same height, reaching out to gently touch her face as though the mere contact might shatter her in her fragility. She seemed to come back from some far off place at the feel of his hand cupping her cheek, her eyes focusing away from the terror that resided there. A sob wrenched itself from her throat and suddenly she was in his arms, her body trembling gently as she clutched desperately at his clothes. He held her for long moments until she quieted, rocking her softly back and forth.

Only when her tears had ebbed into silence did he lifted her into his arms, just as he had when she had burnt her feet, but this time she curled into him, wrapping herself around him as though her life depended on the contact.

He sensed Sano's imminent and rapid arrival. It wasn't a big surprise, even if he had told him to stay down below to check the perimeter. It was clear that Sano had grown attached to Kaoru and was worried something might have happened. He also knew that Kaoru wouldn't want him to see her like this. He stepped to the open door, pushing it almost closed with his foot.

'Everything's alright Sano. Go back downstairs,' he ordered loudly through the crack.

'What's going on, Kenshin? Is Kaoru okay?' The door began to open and Battousai blocked it firmly with his foot. Sighing heavily, he did the only thing he could think of.

'We're busy, Sano, go away.' There was a short pause and then an audible snort.

'Sure you are. You can explain what's going on later.' The fading sounds of retreating footsteps met his ears and then silence.

Sano's certainty that they weren't doing anything, while right, still stung a little, but he brushed it off, focusing instead on the now dozing woman in his arms. He made his way to the bed, disentangling himself from her form, before laying her down and pulling the covers over her. He started to move away, but Kaoru was instantly alert and grasping his sleeve in an iron grip.

'Don't leave me,' she choked out, her eyes pleading and panicked. Battousai smiled tenderly, turning to brush away some strands of hair that had fallen across her face.

'You still don't understand, Koneko.' He sat on the edge of the bed, before leaning down to remove his shoes. 'I will never leave you, I'm just not strong enough to let go of you.'

He gave Kaoru a gentle push so that she leaned back against the pillows and climbed in next to her, pulling her still shaking form against his body.

'What happened, Kaoru?' he asked, stroking her hair lightly as he propped himself up on his elbow to look down at her. She closed her eyes savouring the touch and breathing deeply, freely for the first time in a week.

'It's hard to explain,' she whispered, so quietly he had to strain to hear. 'It's like…every time I'm alone in the dark I can't breathe anymore, can't think past the weight of the silence. It's like…like having something heavy surrounding me, pushing inwards and forcing the air from my lungs until I can hardly breathe, hardly think past the need for sound, light. The fear eats away at me.' The thought of it seemed to make everything worse, her words increasing in speed and her inhalations coming short and shallow.

'Kaoru.' Battousai held her impossibly closer, lowering his head to nuzzle at her neck, trying to distract her. 'Kaoru, breathe Koneko.'

She let out a small sob and leaned further back against his warmth, seeming to want to burrow into him. She calmed slowly as he murmured incoherent things in her ear in that deep, soothing voice.

'Kaoru, when did this start?' He had to ask, had to know whether it was his fault. He realised suddenly how terrifying it must have been, believing that she was being stalked by a sociopath and having to give up everything she loved to run away from him. He had been so raveled up in simply protecting her that he hadn't thought about anything else, but now he saw with his own eyes the damage it might have caused. Kami, he hoped this wasn't because of him. She sighed softly and was silent so long he didn't think she was going to respond.

'It started after Misao nearly died.' Battousai jerked slightly in shock and she nodded, her hair tickling his chin where he rested it on her head. 'Afterwards she was sure it was you who'd attacked her, but I knew better, if it had been you she would have been dead.'

Battousai felt an ache in his chest at her certainty that he would kill so easily even after what he had told her.

'It was made to look like me?' he asked evenly, trying to hide the interest he felt. He had not been told about this.

'Yes, he was short like you.' Battousai snorted in protest at this description of him and she couldn't help but laugh. 'In the dark he looked a lot like you, his hair the same colour and tied in the same way, but I knew it just wasn't you.' He nodded carefully.

'We are getting off topic. What does Misao's attack have to do with your…' He couldn't think of a word that wouldn't sound like he was saying she was sick or insane.

'Well, after the attack, Aoshi decided it was too dangerous for anyone but him to be around me, he was really shaken I think, and was desperate to protect Misao at all costs. So no one came to see me, even Misao couldn't find where I was in the safe houses. It got to the point where I didn't think about anything but the time, watching the clock and waiting for Aoshi to come with my food, just to get some kind of interaction with someone.' She laughed a little bitterly. 'Not that Aoshi was much company; he can't even hold an expression on his face, let alone keep up a conversation.'

Battousai had tensed behind her and she turned to look into his face in the faint moonlight now shining through the nearest window.

'So this is Shinomori's fault?' he hissed out from between clenched teeth and she raised an eyebrow. If she wanted to be cruel she would have pointed out that the entire problem could be traced back to the fact that he had pretty much stalked her and forced her to take refuge with the Oniwabanshu in the first place. She couldn't bring herself to say it though, remembering the incident in her bedroom when she had accused him of hurting her by dragging her around on burnt feet, she could still see in her mind the painful look of self-loathing it had caused. She yawned visibly, her body calming now that her explanations were done. Battousai forcefully relaxed his body so that she would be as comfortable as possible.

'Sleep, Koneko. I will stay with you.'

Kaoru didn't reply. She was already slumbering peacefully.

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Misao stood at the entrance to the office, waiting to be invited in and fidgeting from one foot to the other. She had been waiting for the past hour just to get this far and it was taking a long time for anyone to respond to her polite knock. She was nearly bouncing off the walls when they did. Misao was not a patient person.

'Well, are you coming in, Itachi, or are you going to stand outside and vibrate all day?'

The sarcastic voice made her want to hit something, but she refrained, reminding herself that Kaoru needed her to get his help. She opened the door and was immediately greeted by a faceful of acrid smoke. She coughed violently and a biting laugh rang around the room. Misao scowled, waving a hand in front of her face to clear the air, but it did no good, since the room was so filled with it that she had to squint to even see a step ahead of her.

'Close the door.' She complied grudgingly, bidding goodbye to her clean smelling hair and clothes.

She fumbled her way to a seat, before peering through the smog in the already dimly lit room to try and make out the man behind the desk. Her attempts failed, however, and she gave up, contenting herself with only being able to see the pair of luminous yellow eyes that seemed to flash as they caught the light, and the glowing red tip of a cigarette as he took a drag.

'To what do I owe the honour of a visit from Shinomori's pet itachi?'

Misao clenched her fists under the table to keep from trying to beat him to a pulp. "Try" was the operative word here, since there was no way in hell that she would ever manage to get even close to a hit on this man.

'I'm not here on business for Aoshi-sama,' she said, feigning calm.

She got the impression he was raising an eyebrow, but she couldn't be sure with the damn smoke obscuring everything. Perhaps, that was why he had it, so that people would be left at a disadvantage, being unable to read his body language or expression.

'Spit it out, weasel girl,' he said, dragging her from these interesting musings.

'I have a deal for you, Saitou.' She watched the dancing patterns of smoke where she assumed his face to be, trying to discern his response.

'Oh really? What makes you think that I would make a deal with a hyperactive itachi like you?' He sounded amused, but slightly bored. It was time to bring out the secret weapon.

'Because it involves the Battousai.'

There was a flare of light as he lit another cigarette. A long pause followed during which he inhaled deeply and created an even greater shield of fumes.

'Explain.'

She smiled. Hook, line and sinker.

'The Battousai has kidnapped my best friend. He has her trapped in a Fort Knox style prison in the middle of nowhere with enough security to protect an city. I need you to help me to get in and get her out.' Her excitement bubbled over into her speech, making it come out in one long stream at an incredible speed. She was practically hopping in her seat, a huge grin spreading across her face.

'Get out.' It was said perfectly calmly as though he were asking her if she wanted tea or coffee. Her mouth fell open.

'What?'

'I will not lower myself to sneaking into the Battousai's home and stealing his new pet from him while he isn't looking. If I face him, it will be in an honourable fight with no deception. Now leave.'

Misao recognised defeat when it stared her in the face. She had apparently managed to insult the Mibu Wolf's pride and had, therefore, lost his interest. There was no point in staying.

She stood and left, only allowing herself to slump in despair after she had left the underground headquarters of the Shinsengumi and mingled once again with the crowds of people walking down the street. Another waste of time and on top of that she now stank of smoke.

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Sano was supposed to be back by now. Battousai looked again at the clock, before turning his attention to the woman he was force feeding.

'Kenshin, I can't eat anymore, I'll explode,' she whined pitifully, holding her stomach and groaning for good measure. He grinned cockily, a new expression that made Kaoru's heart flip flop.

'Eat, Koneko, you haven't been feeding yourself properly and now you will make up for it.'

He raised her dropped spoon filled with miso soup to her pouting lips and waited patiently until she opened her mouth. He repeated the action and she had just reached for a handily placed spatula to beat him with, when the door burst open and a self-satisfied looking Sano swaggered in.

'Mission accomplished. It's in the office. Ah miso!' He abandoned the cool act and dived for the soup pan. Battousai laughed, ignoring Kaoru's questioning look, before leaving the room.

'What was the mission, Sano?' He looked up from devouring a huge hunk of bread dipped in miso and the wickedest smirk she had ever seen him wear passed across his face, making him look much like a kid in on a great secret. It changed almost immediately into a wide eyed innocence that did not fool her at all.

'I don't know what you're talking about, Jou-chan.'

She gripped the spatula as she itched to hit him. Kaoru was not one to say no to her violent impulses and Sano found himself sporting a spatula shaped red patch on his forehead.

'Koneko.' She turned from gloating and waving her spatula at Sano to find a large box with a red bow on the table, Battousai leaning against the counter beside it. She forgot her victory instantly, making her way towards it warily. It had strange holes all over the lid and she frowned at it suspiciously.

'It's for you, open it,' Battousai said, looking a little impatient.

She regarded him for a moment, before cautiously undoing the bow and lifting the lid. A small head popped out as soon as it was open, big burnished gold eyes staring up at her reprovingly as if to say that it was not at all amused at being shoved in a box and carted around.

'A kitten?' she gasped happily, lifting it out to cradle in her arms.

'I went all the way to the city to get that for you, Jou-chan,' Sano said sulkily. Kaoru felt instantly guilty for hitting him with the spatula.

'Sorry Sano,' she said sheepishly and his face split into an evil grin.

'It hurts, Jou-chan, will you kiss it better?' he whined, pouting childishly.

A low growl reached Kaoru's ears and she blinked, looking down to see what had distressed her new kitten so much. The kitten didn't seem upset, so where had the noise come from? She looked around in confusion, her eyes falling on Battousai, who was looking away, his bangs shadowing his eyes and his teeth clenched hard. When she turned back to Sano he had turned a little paler. She frowned and Battousai hurriedly began to talk.

'The kitten is to keep you company if we have to go out,' Battousai said, reaching over to stroke its chin and making it purr loudly. 'It'll make all the noise you need.'

Sano forgot about his poor abused face and his near death experience, jumping up to come and rub its head.

'I call her Kenshin.' He laughed loudly at Battousai's indignant expression.

'You call _her_ Kenshin?'

Kaoru couldn't help but giggle. It was true that the kitten had deep red fur almost identical in shade to Battousai's hair, and the eyes, now that she looked, had the same copper tone.

'Kenshin it is.' She kissed it on the tip of its nose and smiled so happily that Battousai stifled the protest he wanted to make. Instead, he retaliated by smirking seductively, leaning forward until their foreheads nearly touched.

'Don't I get a kiss as well, my name is Kenshin too,' he murmured, his breath fanning out over her cheek and making her shiver deliciously.

Kaoru felt herself begin to blush but quashed it immediately, she was not a school girl with a crush damn it. She had a sneaking suspicion Battousai's possessive side had just made a reappearance and this was the perfect opportunity to make sure he knew exactly where her feelings were beginning to lead her, and it definitely wasn't towards Sano.

Closing the distance between their faces, she kissed the corner of his mouth ever so softly, before sashaying away towards the door, kitten still in her arms, inwardly rejoicing at how Battousai was frozen in place, a look of surprise on his face. He hadn't been expecting her to follow up on his flirting and that amused her to no end. Never underestimate Kamiya Kaoru. She felt like punching the air in triumph but held herself back until she could reach the library.

'We'll be in the library, boys.' She pushed open the swing door and just as she was leaving couldn't help but call back, a mischievous smile playing at her lips, 'I hope you liked your thank you, Kenshin.'

**Author's note:** The little bar with _**submit review**_ written on it is there for a reason y'all, use it and make an author's year.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's note: **Hello, dear readers! Ducks flying weapons I know that this chapter is very, very, very late, but I have numerous excuses, most important of which is that I had a severe case of writer's block. I would like to apologise to all of you who have waited patiently and I'd like to thank all of you who have sent me messages of enquiry and encouragement. I would also like to thank my fabulous beta thealchemist'sdaughter for looking this over in one afternoon with me so that I could post it as soon as possible. Hope you all enjoy and don't forget to drop me a review!

**Chapter Nine**

She had failed again, perhaps Aoshi-sama was right and she wasn't cut out to be by his side. Misao trudged through the streets, ignoring the dirty looks from the other harried pedestrians who did not appreciate her sluggish pace. She should return to Kaoru's prison and try to get her out no matter the cost, but right now she needed to sulk and maybe beat up some hapless mugger. She was about to get her wish.

She was roughly shoved to the side, only managing to stay upright because of her quick reflexes. She cursed violently as her ninja senses tingled, informing her of the hand slipping into her pocket while she fell. She caught a glimpse of black hair and then he was gone at surprising speed.

She followed, angry at the boy for mugging her and at herself for being so distracted that she had let him get that far. It wasn't that she had a load of cash that she needed to save, in fact she had so little it wasn't really worth the bother of chasing the brat, but that purse had been a gift from Aoshi-sama on her sixth birthday, before he had thought her old enough to start buying her weapons like the kunai in the pouch on her waist. She cherished it and there was no way she was going to let some stupid street kid steal it from her.

The kid was fast though, dodging through the crowds like water sliding around rock. Shame for him that Misao was faster and better trained, any normal person wouldn't have stood a chance of catching him. The pursuit reached the subway platform before Misao finally managed to tackle the boy to the ground. There was a scuffle, during which she received an elbow to the face and the boy got several nasty bruises, but in the end Misao's superiour education in the art of hand to hand combat meant she came out the victor. She ignored the people on the platform, who were staring in shock as she pinned the boy to the ground, a knee resting a little more heavily than necessary on his spine and one of his arms pulled up painfully high behind his back.

"Hand over the purse, brat," she growled in the voice that few had heard and the Oniwabanshu knew meant that she was this close to losing it.

"What purse, you crazy bitch? I don't have a damn purse, I'm a guy." There was violent cursing as his arm was wrenched a little higher up his back to the point that if it went any higher it would snap.

"Alright, alright, I'll give you the damn purse just let go of my arm," he yelped. His voice was choked with the pain as he struggled vainly against her grip, despite the fact that it would have hurt less if he had just lain still.

She let go of his arm, but didn't let up the pressure on his back. She wasn't stupid; the street brat would undoubtedly make a break for it if she gave him half the chance. He muttered darkly under his breath, still struggling against her weight, but she had a firm position and it was futile.

Finally, he lowered the arm that wasn't throbbing at that moment to his pocket and pulled out her black Chinese silk purse covered in finely embroidered sakura blossoms. She snatched it immediately, holding it delicately as though she had just discovered the Holy Grail and was afraid it might crumble in her hands. She came to herself again only when there was a grunt from beneath her, as the boy inflicted more pain on himself by trying to jostle her off his back, only succeeding in causing her knee to dig sharply into his spine.

"Get off, you stupid bitch," he snarled viciously and she retaliated by resting her full weight against him as she stood. He was on his feet as soon as her weight was lifted, but instead of dashing for the nearest exit as she had expected him to, he simply stood his ground, fists balled at his sides and his face contorted into a mask of fury. She felt something click inside her mind, she recognised this boy but where from? She just couldn't put her finger on it.

"Are you trying to paralyse me, Busu, you could have broken my spine by resting your elephant sized body on it," he yelled angrily and Misao couldn't help but look down to check if she had suddenly put on a large amount of weight in the last ten minutes. She was not what you would call elephantine, in fact she lamented her skinniness everyday, wondering whether the reason why her Aoshi-sama wasn't interested was because he liked his women curvy, a trait she had given up all hope of possessing after trying to fatten up by eating a ton of ice cream one night, ending in her being sick for days.

"You little…," she began, but trailed off as the missing puzzle piece fell into place and suddenly she knew who this boy was. The memory of one of her many late night conversations with Kaoru came back to her and her breath caught.

Flashback

"_Kami, who would have thought I'd miss the brat so much, I would probably even let him call me Busu without beating him to a pulp with my bokken if I could just see him again."_

End Flashback

Kaoru had shown her a picture of a scowling young man standing in the middle of a dojo floor. He had become much like a brother to her and Misao had joked that they had obviously spent way too much time together since, from the picture, it looked like he had picked up her temper.

The boy had begun to stomp away by the time she had come out of her reverie and she reprimanded herself sternly. Ninjas were supposed to stay on their guard all the time, what if an enemy had attacked, she would have been dead before she had even realised there was a threat.

"Yahiko!"

He turned back and she looked into surprised brown eyes.

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Kaoru couldn't help it, even though she had the most adorable bundle of dark red fluff in her lap, who was trying very hard to distract her, she couldn't help but long for its namesake. He had been in his office since he had given her the present and she was shocked to find that, although it had only been a couple of hours, she yearned for his company.

Her mind flashed back involuntarily to that morning and she felt a warm, happy sensation pervade her entire body. This feeling of contentment had been missing for a long time now and she reveled in it, enjoying the sense of peace.

Flashback

_The sunlight filtering in through the windows was what woke her. She groaned grouchily, ducking further into the warm hollow her head rested in to block out the light. It was too late though, her senses were awake. She could smell the scent of ginger and pine, it was reassuring, familiar and she sighed softly. _

_She sat up a little and found that she had been resting comfortably against Battousai's chest, her nose nuzzled into his neck just under his chin. Her stomach did a summersault and tightened deliciously. He was still fully dressed, his shirt creased and opened at the first few buttons, his ponytail loosened so that his hair was ruffled and wild. He looked at peace, but so unintentionally seductive that she felt her mouth go dry. She licked her lips, shifting a little to distract herself from the need to touch his face and run her hands through that loose hair. _

_She felt something tighten around her waist and squeaked, looking down to find his arm wrapped possessively round her, fingers slipped just under her top to rest against her hip. She could feel the heat radiating from that tiny contact with her skin and it sent a shiver through her body. She ached to feel those calloused hands run over her. She gave herself a mental slap. Those were bad thoughts. Damn, she needed to escape this sweet torture, before it completely robbed her of her rationality and she did something stupid._

_She began to slip from the bed, regretfully moving his arm from around her as she did so, and suddenly she found herself on her back, a leanly muscled red head looking down at her with intense amber eyes. She gasped for breath and they trailed from hers down over her body, lingering on her breasts before continuing their journey. She felt as though his gaze was tracing a line of fire everywhere it touched and her breath became even more laboured._

"_Koneko, do you know how tempting you look right now?" Battousai purred, his eyes finding hers once more. From the look of almost fierce lust in them, she could probably guess._

"_Um…" was the best she could manage, however, as one of his hands followed the path his eyes had taken, feathering over her as though he was trying to rememorise her every curve. She bit back a moan of frustration, the not quite touches driving her insane._

"_Quit teasing, Kenshin," she warned darkly, a counterpoint to the almost pleading look in her eyes. A cocky smirk began to play at Battousai's lips, making him look deliciously seductive._

"_Would you like me to touch you, Koneko?" he breathed in her ear and she couldn't hold back the quiet moan that slipped from her lips as he nibbled on it. The sound seemed to please him since he dropped to her neck and kissed it gently. _

_A small part of her mind was telling her that this was moving way too fast and that she needed time to think about this somewhere away from this handsome, sinfully tempting man. It was overwhelmed, though, by the part that was whispering how good it felt to be with him again, to have him touch her so tenderly. However, even that voice was drowned out by the wash of sensations as his lips continued the path from her throat to her jaw, following its line until he was hovering just above her lips. She held her breath, her eyes fluttering closed in anticipation. _

_Then, her stomach growled long and loud, informing the world of its plight. She wished in that moment that the bed would just turn into a black hole and swallow her. A warm chuckle made her open her eyes to look into amused amber ones. The only sign of his disappointment a slight downward turn of his mouth which disappeared as quickly as it came, leaving her wondering if she'd seen anything at all._

"_I think it is time you ate, Koneko," Battousai said, smiling sunnily down at her. _

_She was shocked at how quickly his demeanour had taken a one eighty turn from the darkly tempting man of just a moment ago. It was almost as if he had never been driving her crazy with his kisses as he stood and held out his hand to her, all the while smiling innocently. She scowled, feeling cheated, but took it all the same since he would undoubtedly not take no for an answer. _

_He pulled her up easily, a little too easily for his taste or so the frown seemed to indicate. Unfortunately, the movement was too fast for her to be able to untangle herself from the bedclothes in time and she caught her legs, tripping over her own feet and slamming straight into his chest, sending them both to the floor before either of them was able to rebalance. _

_She clenched her eyes shut and only opened them when she heard him laugh. She blushed like an embarrassed school girl when she found herself pressed against every line of his body down to the tips of their toes, her breasts flattened against his chest and her hands planted on either side of his head._

"_Patience, Koneko." His voice was rough and gravely as though he were holding himself back by his last threads of self control and the dark look of lust that flickered through his eyes brought hope that his seduction was not over yet. The answering flutter in her belly it caused told her she was looking forward very much to its return._

End Flashback

Kaoru was drawn from her pleasant reverie by a soft mewing and kitten Kenshin butting her hand irritably, protesting her sudden lack of attention to her. Smiling gently, she rubbed under the kitten's chin and couldn't help but laugh as Kenshin purred fit to burst and arched her head back so far it looked almost painful.

"Aren't you just the cutest thing," Kaoru cooed affectionately, moving to rub behind the tiny animal's ears. She was rewarded with an even louder purr and a very happy kitten nuzzling her hand.

She was just about to explore what other places her new pet liked to be scratched when an unknown force drew her gaze up and towards the door where she was immediately snared by a pair of amused amber eyes, watching the adorable scene unfold in front of him.

Her stomach did an odd flip flop and butterflies burst into spontaneous flight in her belly. He looked delicious as usual, hair pulled back in a sleek high ponytail, his bangs falling around his eyes, making him look slightly mysterious. It shone darkly red in the light of the library and she realised that he must have gone up for a shower sometime after she had left for the library.

She licked her suddenly dry lips as he pushed off the doorjamb he'd been leaning against and walked towards her, not a word of greeting leaving his lips. He was wearing a pair of form fitting jeans and a dark red shirt she distinctly remembered wearing herself on several occasions over the past month. The memory of having left it abandoned at the bottom of his wardrobe was quite vivid, but these thoughts were quickly pushed from her mind as the clean masculine scent that was uniquely Battousai reached her nose and she inhaled appreciatively. The aroma of pine and ginger was the one thing that had still remained constant after the switch from her sweet Kenshin to the darker Battousai and the familiarity felt safe. She realised suddenly that she'd closed her eyes in pleasure and blushed violently as she opened them to find amused amber staring back at her from mere inches away.

"What are you thinking, Koneko?" His voice was warm, something like tenderness lacing his voice.

Her blush deepened and she stuttered something incoherent that made his slightly cocky grin widen. He knew very well the effect he was having on her and he was enjoying every minute of it. She would have begun to get angry out of sheer embarrassment if right then some internal switch hadn't seemed to flick in his head, changing him from playful to serious in half a second. She was beginning to wonder whether he wasn't just a little bit bi-polar.

She blinked and he was sitting beside her in a movement so fast she hadn't even managed to focus on it. How the hell did he do that? It was almost like Hannya's appearing and disappearing acts in her safe room so long ago. She was dragged from these musings by the one sentence she did not want or think she would hear at least for a short while.

"Kaoru, I have to leave for a mission."

She could feel her face falling and tried hard to stop and not show how that sudden statement upset her, but she knew by the agonised look in his eyes that she had failed miserably.

"Another mission already?" she whispered, a pang of something hitting her heart.

When had his presence become so essential to her happiness again anyway? She looked away, using her bangs as a shield much the same way he often did.

"No, that wasn't… Sano will be staying with you this time, Koneko, and you'll have your kitten."

He stroked the tiny animal down to the tip of its tail as it stretched as long as its body would allow, purring like a well kept car. Kaoru couldn't help but smile at its antics.

"Do you know how long it will take?" She asked, finally looking up at him. He smiled weakly, gently pushing back her bangs with his hand. She could see in his eyes how conflicted her reaction made him, the joy that she seemed to want him with her and the pain at having to disappoint that wish.

"It shouldn't take long, maybe a few days."

She nodded and forced a smile of her own. The hand pushing her bangs out of her eyes moved to cup her cheek. Her breath caught and time seemed to slow around them. She would have laughed at the cheesy romance movie aspect of it all if it wasn't for the fact that it would have ruined the moment she had been craving since Battousai had come so close to kissing her that morning. No, that wasn't strictly true, she realised, as she felt herself drawn to his almost burning touch, she had longed for this contact since the first time he had come back into her life, possessive, dark but still so utterly Kenshin.

"Kenshin, the car's…here," Sano trailed off, looking torn between embarrassment at having walked in on them and amusement at what he had walked in on.

Kaoru could have screamed in frustration and judging by the now ever changing golden shades of Battousai's eyes, she was pretty sure his mood was no better. He sighed heavily, his breath fanning across her lips. She licked them instinctively and his eyes followed the movement hungrily.

"You are trying to kill me, Koneko, and you're succeeding admirably," he whispered huskily. For a moment she felt a sense of elation, the urge to punch the air in triumph very strong. He was, apparently, not the only one who could have an embarrassing effect on the other. Closing his eyes, Battousai breathed deeply and when he opened them they were clear burnished amber again. She felt a pang of disappointment, but forced it away.

"Stay inside and don't do anything stupid." The first part was directed at her, his eyes conveying clearly both his iron command and an underlying worry that allowed her to overlook the fact that he was ordering her around. The second part was for Sano, the decree given with a warning look that made him pale slightly. He managed to maintain his nonchalance, however.

"Me? Stupid? Those words just don't fit together in the same sentence." He faked a look of outraged indignation but broke into a wide grin when Battousai snorted. "Don't worry, man, everything will be fine here, you just go do what you gotta do, alright?"

Battousai nodded stiffly, giving another look over his shoulder at Kaoru, sitting with her kitten in her lap and looking so utterly tempting and so fragile. He knew very well that the vulnerability was only a surface impression and that she could take care of herself in any normal situation, but what they were up against wasn't normal in any sense of the word. If it had been the case of some stupid mugger he'd have laughed at the thought of fearing for his Koneko, but instead now his stomach twisted and knotted with anxiety and he wanted nothing more than to pin her to his side and never let her leave his sight.

He growled under his breath and turned to Sano, grabbing him by the collar of his white jacket and dragging him from the room. The second they were outside the door, he shoved Sano against the wall and snarled at him.

"If anything happens to her while I'm gone, Sanosuke, Megumi won't be able to find enough pieces to make a coffin worth the effort, understand?"

Sano looked at him seriously, nodding, smart enough to know that making a joke out of this now would most likely result in his losing vital body parts. Battousai turned on his heel and left without another word, the front door slamming behind him.

Ignoring the odd stares the guards were giving him, Battousai rested his back against the door and sighed heavily. In all his days as an assassin, he had never regretted his job more than right at that moment, having to leave was the hardest thing he had ever done.

He inhaled deeply, allowing the jasmine scent that infused his shirt to soothe his senses. He had found it at the bottom of his wardrobe, a place he would never have allowed it to stay himself, and discovered that Kaoru had apparently taken a liking to it over the time he had been away, so much so that her sweet scent, one that had become so irrevocably connected with peace and happiness, had now permeated the fabric.

He had immediately put it on, ignoring the wrinkles he normally would not have been able to stand. At least in that way he could have something with him of hers while he traveled to save him from going completely insane. He'd change into something more suitable for his work once he arrived at headquarters.

Opening the eyes he had not realised he'd closed, he pushed away from the door and made his way to the non-descript black car parked in the drive. It shone in the bright sunlight, but the beauty of the day was lost on him as he got in and peeled out of the driveway. He could only hope his target wouldn't act too difficult about their inevitable death.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Kitten Kenshin jumped, startled, as the sound of the front door slamming echoed through the quiet house. Kaoru rested a soothing hand on her back, running her fingers through her soft fur. The contact was as much to comfort her as the kitten. The noise had made her chest constrict and the familiar sense of fear well up inside her. It was ridiculous that she felt so alone and vulnerable knowing that he was gone. She could take care of herself, damn it. But even as she thought this, she knew deep down that where her psychological fears were concerned she had no defense, no protection, besides this man who dispelled the darkness with the light he brought into her world. Sano saved her from these disconcerting thoughts by re-entering the room and grinning at her widely in a way that made her narrow her eyes in suspicion.

"Party time."

She stared at him at his retreating back as he once again left the room, trying and failing to catch his meaning. Did he not just see Battousai? He was either even stupider than she had initially thought or he was really, really brave. Kaoru was leaning firmly towards the former. She sighed, getting up and following the sound of his voice to the office.

"Yes, Katsu, three kegs should do it and don't forget the cards." Sano had the biggest smirk on his face she had ever seen. She shook her head at him and sighed.

"On your own head be it, is all I'm saying," she told him darkly.

"Don't waste your breath, Tanuki, he's about as likely to listen as he is to take off that ridiculous head band."

Megumi glided into the room, immaculately dressed in a cream blouse and deep red skirt, her nails and lips painted the same shade. Kaoru felt instantly dowdy and scowled, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. Suddenly, Battousai's black shirt knotted at the waist to pull it in and the pair of sweats that were tightened as far as they'd go and were still slung low on her hips, no longer seemed to look as good as they did that morning in the mirror. Then a question hit her, how the hell had Magumi got in? Looking over her shoulder, the front door was still firmly closed and nothing seemed out of place.

"I have a backdoor key and an in with the guards," Megumi informed her with amusement as she kissed Sano and turned to smile at her. Kaoru would have responded if it wasn't for the overwhelming urge to look disgusted that the beautiful doctor had kissed Sano, the guy who was rapidly becoming like an older brother to her.

"Katsu and the guys will be here in a few hours,' Sano said, wrapping his arm round Megumi's waist and kissing the top of her head in a way that made Kaoru feel alternately nauseous and jealous, desperately wanting that kind of affection herself.

"Jou-chan, can you play poker?" The excitement on Sano's face made him look so sweet and boyish that she couldn't help smiling in response, nodding the affirmative. "Well, wherever you played I can promise you it wasn't the real deal, tonight you're going to play the real game."

Megumi rolled her eyes and made a face at Kaoru, flicking her hair over her shoulder in a habitual show of disdain Kaoru was coming to recognise after the several meetings they had had.

"What Roosterhead is trying to say is you better be prepared for the best cheats, liars and poker faces in town because you're about to face a bunch of assassins at cards."

Kaoru gulped at the image that came to her mind. She hoped none of them were sore losers.

That is how Kamiya Kaoru found herself sitting in the ballroom at a table of hitmen, stroking her kitten with one hand and holding her cards with the other. It turned out the hard men with the cold eyes she had imagined killing everyone at the table if they lost were actually a lot like Sano, a fact which shouldn't really have surprised her. In fact, Katsu, who Sano had mentioned several times before the men's arrival, had a striking resemblance to him in personality and even wore much the same head band only in green rather than red. She had found it highly amusing how, after a few drinks, the mention of their matching head bands had caused a friendly argument to burst out between them about which of the two had been the inventor of this style trend.

She watched the disciplined assassins becoming steadily more inebriated as the night progressed, until they were slouching over the table, showing their cards for the world to see and laughing about past failed missions, all of which were top secret and shouldn't even have been mentioned in front of her, let alone discussed in detail.

After a while, she gave up trying to play a serious game of poker with any of them, since she would inevitably get to see their cards no matter how much she tried to play fair. The real deal? If this was how to play true poker she wondered what the people in Vegas were playing when she'd gone there, because it definitely wasn't this game.

She ended up sitting between Sano and an equally drunk Katsu, who teasing Sano by mock lecturing him on the best hair care products to deal with his seemingly permanent bed head problem. The way Sano's face was going the colour of his head band told her it was about to get ugly, and she was just thinking of the best means of escape when the ballroom doors burst open, revealing Battousai, dressed head to toe in black, contrasting beautifully with the fiery red of his hair and the livid amber of his eyes. She was sitting a fair distance from the entrance, but she could still see them flash angrily as his eyes searched the room. They came to a stop on her and she thought, as he made his way towards her seat with the fluidity of a predator, that he was coming for her, the idea making her tremble with a mixture of fear mostly overridden by excitement. Then she caught sight of Sano out of the corner of her eye. He was ghostly pale and the way he was desperately looking for an exit, his eyes darting this way and that like a cornered animal, told her clearly it was not her that the deadly assassin was stalking. Unfortunately for Sano, there was only one way out and Battousai was blocking it.

She realised that the room had gone deathly silent, the effect of Battousai's overwhelmingly powerful ki as it filled the room, roiling with fury. Even she was holding her breath in anticipation of what that dark aura promised. Her instincts were screaming at her to hold perfectly still for fear that any sudden movements might set off some violent reaction in the approaching man, and she did as they guided, her years of kendo training having made it habit.

Sano was beginning to visibly sweat, fidgeting in his seat as though he was trying to ignore his flight instinct.

"Hey, Kenshin, man, you're home early, wasn't expecting you till at least tomorrow," he said, feigning joviality and failing miserably. His hand came up to scratch the back of his head in his telling habit of distress.

"Clearly," was Battousai's icy response, his tone sending chills down everyone's spines. "Or even you would not have been idiot enough to disobey my instructions. I guess I'll just help Megumi out and save her the expense of that coffin I promised you you wouldn't need when I was done with you."

Battousai began to draw his katana from the sheath attached to his belt, the sound echoing around the quiet room. Sano's white face managed to become even paler a feat she had not thought possible, and Kaoru began to wonder if he might faint.

Then, suddenly, within one blink and the next, she found herself dragged to her feet, Sano's five foot ten frame trying in vain to hide behind her smaller one. She would have laughed at how silly it looked at any other time, however, his ridiculous move of self preservation only seemed to infuriate Battousai more, since his slow progress across the ballroom floor, designed and succeeding in making Sano sweat, became a blurr of movement until he was standing mere inches away from them.

One more step forwards and Sano's nerve snapped almost audibly. Kaoru found herself flung forwards with as much force as Sano could muster, stumbling into Battousai's chest with an oomph. He caught her instinctively in his arm, managing by some miracle to maintain his balance.

"Take her instead," Sano shouted, vaulting over the back of the sofa and dashing across the room so fast he could rival Battousai himself for speed. "I'm too hot to die."

Kaoru scowled, keeping her eyes screwed tightly shut and making a mental note to kill Sano herself later for throwing her to the wolf. She felt a light pressure under her chin, nudging it up, and she opened them to find herself looking into intense pools of amber. On second thought, maybe she would buy him something nice, it must cost him a ton to buy enough bandages to wrap round his waist like that everyday.

Her thoughts scattered like autumn leaves in the wind as Battousai's lips brushed hers in a feather light caress, whispering her name in that gravely voice that left her no doubt as to what he wanted to do to her. A sigh slipped from her lips and her eyes fluttered closed in anticipation once again. If anyone interrupted this time she was going to use Battousai's katana to slice off important pieces of their anatomy, her principles be damned.

He caught her face in his hands, the calluses on his thumbs catching on the soft skin of her cheeks. His breath ghosted over her lips and she parted them slightly, her hands coming up to fist in his black shirt. They stayed in that position for what seemed like ages to Kaoru and she was just about to scream in frustration and beat the man to a pulp, when his mouth descended on hers hot and hard, the passion taking her breath away. She pressed against him, threading her fingers into his hair and following the guidance of his hands as they tilted her head to a more comfortable angle.

She gave a whimper of protest as he pulled back, but it was only long enough to give her a look so smoldering she was surprised she didn't melt into the ground right there, and then his mouth was slanting against hers once again, his tongue flicking out to run along the seam of her bottom lip. She opened for him and their tongues tangled, battling with the same skill they both had with a sword.

Time seemed to slow to a halt. They were in their own little world, their own private bubble in the center of the ballroom. Nothing mattered aside from the brush of hands and tongue, not the people or the noise of gunfire echoing from outside the house.

They froze, eyes flying open as they pulled apart. It was like the time they had lost as they kissed collided with them in one huge crash. People were running towards the ballroom doors, guns and swords drawn, and suddenly she could see the assassins in them, their eyes cold and focused with deadly intent. Where the hell was the slurring and swaying?

She could just make out Sano trying to wade his way towards them, Megumi clinging to his side, trying to mask the terror she was obviously feeling by shouting and cursing at people who got in their way. She never knew Megumi had such a wide vocabulary. It must have been Sano's influence.

She was drawn from these ridiculous thoughts as the sound of gunfire grew louder and an explosion lit up the night sky outside the windows, causing the chandeliers to rattle loudly. This was definitely not good.

**Author's note:** Voila! The review button is right there! Use it and light up an author's boring life!


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's note:** No, dear readers, I am not dead! I bring you the next installment of my story with immense apologies for its lateness. My excuse is university applications and a ton of work slowly draining me of life. Never fear, though, I will not leave you with abandonment issues. This story will be completed if it kills me in the process! I am truly, truly sorry and please don't give up on me and my fic! Finally, thank you so much to my loyal reader, inuyashaswifeforlifeonly for kicking my butt into gear and getting me moving again.

**Chapter Ten**

Kaoru's eyes were drawn away from the explosions lighting up the dark sky outside the window by the electric force fairly crackling around the man beside her. His arm was still wrapped tightly around her waist in a simulacrum of intimacy that once was and had now been doused with the fear running through both their veins.

Her eyes were snared in his instantly and she felt a shock of something pass through her system as she looked into deep, almost feral amber. He was furious, an anger almost beyond reason or salvation, and she knew without a doubt that nothing that stood in his path would survive him this night. However, behind that initial fury, she could once again see that telltale shadow, the one that had flashed through his amber orbs on several occasions, but this time instead of flitting through and passing, it was a clear and tangible emotion. Battousai was scared, no terrified…for her.

"Kaoru, listen to me carefully, Misao is in the oak tree outside the west wall." His voice was hurried and he loosened his grip from her waist, lifting his hand to help the other remove a chain from around his neck. The next moment, she felt the press of cold, hard metal in her palm and she looked down to find Battousai's universal key gleaming up at her. "She will make sure you are safe."

When Kaoru continued to stand there dumbfounded, looking from the key in her hand to him, he gave her a gentle push and an almost pained "go."

"I will not go and leave you to fight against whatever is coming alone, Kenshin," Kaoru growled, looking up at him with an indignation and defiance that reminded him of why he had fallen for the pretty spitfire in the first place. He was not going to back down, however.

"Kaoru, go. I cannot fight knowing that you are near," he said, his eyes pleading with her to go, to understand. "To know that you are in the midst of this battle would drive me insane."

His last words were a whisper, but she heard and she understood, for a warrior to have even the slightest loss of focus during a fight could be fatal. She nodded, swallowing the hurt pride telling her that she could fight and protect as well as he.

A soft meow drew her attention to Kenshin kitten hidden behind a leg of the sofa, trembling and terrified, her ears pinned back against her head in response to the loud bangs and crashes from outside. Kaoru lifted the shaking form into her arms and looked back at Battousai, still standing stiffly in the middle of the empty room. The lonely picture made tears fill her eyes and she wanted nothing more than to move to stand beside him, bokken in hand, ready to fight. She fought the urge, closing her eyes and breathing deeply as she turned once more towards the door through which Sano had finally managed to pass. He was part way across the floor, his strides long and purposeful, Megumi struggling to keep pace.

Kaoru gasped as she felt a hand grasp her arm and yank her back against a hard chest.

"Be careful, Koneko," Battousai breathed against her hair in an agonised whisper. "If I lose you the skies will rain with their blood."

Her own blood turned to ice in her veins and she could do nothing but nod as he pressed a fierce kiss to her head and nudged her away. She stumbled from the room, her limbs no longer functioning to her command. She passed the couple, acknowledging neither of them.

However, by the time she had reached the large hallway, she had forced through the slowing effect of her own fear and was already planning out her exit strategy. The front door was impossible, that was obvious by the mass exodus through that entrance and the sounds of battle clearly audible only a little beyond. Her best bet would be the backdoor in the kitchen. Accordingly she set her steps towards that room, the normally loud echo of her movements drowned by the never ending crashes shaking the walls of the house.

She slipped through the swinging door and moved hurriedly, gliding a little on the marble surface of the floor in her socks. She had not had time or thought for shoes, since she considered her life and Battousai's sanity a little more important than some cuts.

Snatching the keys from the hook, she unlocked the backdoor quickly and threw it open. Unfortunately, speed had left no space for caution in her mind and as soon as the door flew open she caught sight of the two men on the other side, half hidden by shadows.

"Why thank you kindly, Miss." The larger of the two men leered at her in the light from the room at her back as he sidled forwards. "We were just wondering how to make a proper entrance."

Kaoru made an angry noise at the back of her throat, less directed at him than at her for her own stupidity. Not only had she not thought to check her surroundings, but in the process of her rush she had even forgotten to grab a weapon.

The man was just reaching the threshold, visibly smug and relaxed. It was the look a man might unwittingly get when he thought he'd found an easy target in an unarmed woman. She looked forward to educating him in the finer points of how wrong he was. With blurring speed her arm shot out and slammed the door back into his face. There was a sickening sound of bone connecting with re-enforced wood and a shriek of both fury and pain followed. She allowed herself little time to gloat, however, knowing it wouldn't take long for the man to recover enough to come after her and this time she had no doubt he would be spitting mad.

Wheeling round, she was heading back the way she had come when sure enough the crash of the door hitting the wall met her ears. Her eyes were riveted onto the smooth white paneling of the door ahead and she was just putting her hand out to press against it when she was yanked back against a hard chest, kitten struggling to get loose in her arms, apparently no longer willing to take the jerking motions docilely. To her horror kitten Kenshin wriggled from her grasp and disappeared before her eyes could catch where. She didn't have time to worry for her, however, her own situation being far more dire than her furry companion's.

"Nice try, Sunshine, but you're not going anywhere without us."

This was undoubtedly the second man's voice, surprisingly deeper than his bigger companion's and filled with a lot more ice cold menace. Her skin crawled as he breathed against her ear and she fought the urge to shudder. He would no doubt take the action as fear and she refused to even allow him that small satisfaction before she removed him.

She slammed her foot heel first down on his, grinding it against the bones with her full weight. He let out a cry of pain, doubling over and she used his forwards momentum to flip him on his back in front of her, once again driving her foot down, this time into his sternum, forcing the breath from his lungs for a good minute.

Turning her head, she saw his comrade lumbering inside clutching his bloody nose and groaning loudly and she threw herself against the swinging door, barreling through it and straight into the ferocious battle beyond.

Men were fighting on all sides, blood already slippery on the floors and bodies littering the ground. The enemy had infiltrated the main hall, but was being met with fierce resistance. Either there were more guards than she had previously thought or reinforcements had arrived.

Her mind went through her highly limited options at record speed. The front door was as impossible as only a short while ago, men still pouring in and the sounds of explosions ringing in her ears from outside. The stairs were her only chance of escape and she pressed her back to the wall, avoiding as best she could the swords and guns being wielded around her as she moved. She saw out of the corner of her eye the men burst through the kitchen door just as she reached the stairs and she didn't give herself time to breathe as she dashed up them. Ironic that the first time she had used them she had been moving with equal speed in the opposite direction. She forced this thought aside, her mind filled with only one idea, one word, 'bokken.'

She skidded round corner after corner, thanking Kami for the vigorous training she had put her body through recently. Without it she would be choking for air on the ground at that moment.

She was so focused on breathing evenly and conserving as much energy as she could that she allowed her body to follow a route she hadn't realised had become ingrained into her. Kaoru found herself standing outside the door to the first room she had occupied rather than the one in which she knew her bokken to be. She could have screamed in frustration, an image of her wooden sword resting against her bedside table flitting through her mind temptingly. Why was nothing going right? The thought had barely registered when the sounds of heavy footfalls rang down the corridor. Looking up, she caught sight of the shorter man rounding the corner towards her and rushed into the bedroom. Later, she would not be able to explain, if anyone had asked, why she had not just turned tail and run, but she ended up in a dark bedroom filled with memories she didn't wish to return to.

She choked on the darkness, neither her kitten nor its namesake present to ward off the shadows. Her instincts clamoured for light as she started losing the power to breathe, but with her last vestiges of sanity she clung to the knowledge that its glow underneath the door would give away her hideout. She concentrated on taking steadying, silent breaths, closing her eyes to a darkness she could control when the door creaked quietly open behind her.

"Hello again, Sunshine."

Her eyes shot open and she turned around, sliding automatically into a fighting stance. The man seemed unperturbed by her actions, however, entering the room as though he owned the place. The light at his back gave him an eerie emaciated quality, accentuating the sharp lines of his face and she swallowed against the lump that was building in her throat.

"You know I sent Konu in the other direction," he said nonchalantly. "I wanted some time alone with you, just the two of us"

If his words had not been enough for her to understand, the leering tone of his voice left her in no doubt of his intentions. She opened her mouth to respond with some jeering comment in the hopes of pushing him into making a rash move, but he cut her off.

"Of course, I'll need to take you to the boss soon, butI'm sure he won't mind too much if I play with you a little first."

Her heart juddered to a stop in her chest and her body froze. The memory flooded back viciously tearing at the healing wound of her past.

Flashback:

'_I'm sure he won't mind too much if I play with you a little first.' _

_She darted her eyes around, searching for a weapon, anything to keep him away from her. There was nothing. He was upon her, the smell of sweat lingering in the air surrounding him._

'_Please, no,' she whispered._

End Flashback

Bile rose in her throat and she shook with the force of her own fear and revulsion. She jerked as fingers ran along her cheek, drawing her back to herself. In the moment she had spent distracted, absorbed in her own past, he had closed the final space between them and was now standing before her.

She stumbled from him, the urge to be sick becoming stronger, but he used the hand already on her face to tangle in her hair, dragging on it hard and holding her in place. She felt terribly weak as though the drug used for the earlier rape attempt was still flowing through her veins. She couldn't seem to pull together enough threads of strength to do more than spit at him.

"Now, now, Sunshine," he hissed, wiping the saliva from his face, a look of disgust and rage replacing the former smugness. "Don't be a tease."

With sudden force she was thrown backwards, hitting the bed and bouncing a little on the mattress before coming to rest. She slid immediately away from him until her back came in contact with the headboard. It was the wrong thing to do. It was the act of a victim, prey trying to escape and it seemed to bring out the predator in him. Even in the dim light cast across the floor from the doorway, she could see the flicker in his eyes and the sickening smirk tugging at his lips.

She scrabbled desperately for some kind of weapon, but in vain, there was nothing to use. She made the fatal mistake of looking away from him in search of something, anything to protect herself with and the beast pounced, dragging her down until she was beneath him. She felt tears of frustration and terror fill her eyes. Why couldn't she fight? Why couldn't she do what she had done with every other bully she had ever met? Her hands fought for purchase as he continued to haul her to him.

Suddenly, her fingers closed around cold, hard steel and she clung to it like a lifeline. With a jolt of recognition she remembered the knife she had smuggled from the kitchen in the pocket of her sweatshirt. She had taken it in the hopes of protection against Battousai and tucked it beneath her pillow so she would be able to reach it quickly if needed.

She allowed her mind to calm, steadying herself. Now that she had a possibility, a weapon, she felt the control she had lost come trickling back. Her brain clicked into gear. She needed to wait for exactly the right moment. He had to be right over her so that she could drive the knife into the back of his neck, severing his spinal cord, but he couldn't be at the point where he would restrain her arms.

Unfortunately, she had been so engulfed in her thoughts that she had stopped struggling, however weakly it had been, merely holding rigidly still and waiting. His head shot up, a light of suspicion and confusion filling his eyes as he regarded her. 'Now or never,' her mind screamed and she withdrew her arm from beneath the pillow, swinging it up with lightning speed and… He slumped down against her, his blood splattering her face. Her arm fell limply by her side as she saw the kunai glinting in the light and protruding from the back of his head.

There was a shriek of triumph and then clattering steps as the owner of the voice ran towards the bed. No, as she lay still, shock sucking the energy from her body, she realised there was more than one set of footsteps.

"Kaoru, are you alright? Speak to me, damn it!"

The voice was so painfully familiar that the tears she had managed by miracle to hold back began to flow unchecked down her cheeks. The heavy body of the dead man was dragged off her and the view of the blood spilling from the back of his head was replaced by the pale face of a terrified Yahiko. She launched herself upwards and caught him against her, hugging him with a pressure that forced the air from his lungs. However, since he was returning the embrace with just as much, if not more, zeal she didn't think he minded too much. They stayed like that for a long moment, until a laugh brought them both back to reality and Yahiko scrambled away, looking as though his entire reputation had just been ruined.

"Damn it, Busu," he growled, drawing his eyebrows together in their trademark scowl. "Don't you dare ever scare me like that again."

Kaoru felt a smile pull at her lips. It was so good to hear him call her that again that she let him off with a simple, "You're such a child, Yahiko-chan." He opened his mouth to reply, when they were once again interrupted.

"Hey, I'm here too you know and if I'm not mistaken that's my kunai all bloodied up in the back of some guys head." Misao was standing with her hands on her hips, the sulky tone in her voice belied by the twinkle in her eyes. "I mean don't worry about thanking me for saving your life."

Kaoru threw herself from the bed, catching her foot in the blankets and catapulting into Misao so that they both collapsed to the floor.

"Misao! I'm so glad to see you, I missed you, so much has happened, you have no idea how scary it's been…" Kaoru babbled almost as fast as Misao herself and only stopped when she had no more breath to talk. "Oh and by the way, thanks for saving me."

There was a moment of pure silence as Misao stared up at her with an expression of mild bewilderment and utter delight, then she burst into a fit of uncontrollable giggles. It was an infectious sound and soon Kaoru was shaking with laughter as well, both of them rolling around on the floor.

"As great as it is to watch you two make idiots of yourselves, I really think we should get the hell outta here," Yahiko finally said, watching them with a look of mixed amusement and disdain. The words had only just left his mouth when an explosion nearby shook the building.

"Not a bad idea, kid," Misao chirped, bouncing to her feet and helping Kaoru up.

She ignored the angry shout Yahiko made as she moved on to removing her precious kunai from the dead man's scalp. It slid free with a sickening noise and Kaoru winced, looking away in disgust. Blood she had seen before but the noise a blade made as it slid free of bone she would never get used to.

Then it hit her like a slap to the face, leaving her reeling and ill. She had been prepared to kill with that kitchen knife now lying harmlessly on the bed. She hadn't thought once about incapacitating her attacker and there were several different ways she could have without having to take his life. She could have turned the knife and used the handle butt to knock him out without anymore, or probably less, effort than it would to drive the blade into him. She knew all the right places that would make him see black faster than Yahiko could run when she was chasing him with her bokken. Yet, she had raised that knife with full knowledge of what would happen and the thought of taking human life, even a wretched, worthless human life like his, sickened her to the core. Suddenly, she wanted more than anything to be holding the smooth handle of her wooden sword, safe and, more importantly, unable to kill as easily as live steel.

"No," she said quietly. The other two turned to her from their position now at the door, faces pulled into identical frowns of confusion. "I'm not leaving without my bokken."

Yahiko rolled his eyes and his frown became a full blown scowl.

"For Kami's sake, Busu, we can buy you a new one. Right now we need to get outta here before our luck runs out and we meet someone me and Misao can't handle."

Kaoru would have let the Busu comment go, but the obvious omission of her name from the fighting ranks was too much. Opening her mouth and balling her fists, she was about to show him that women really could multitask better than guys by making his ears ring and his body ache at the same time, when Misao nodded solemnly. A solemn Misao was a rare thing and Kaoru couldn't help gaping at her, mouth hanging open in a most unladylike fashion.

"Let's go get it. Lead the way, Kaoru," Misao said in a scarily serious voice.

Kaoru obeyed out of sheer fright, checking the corridor before moving swiftly in the direction she had come, the others right on her heels. There was an odd smell wafting around that she couldn't quite place, but she brushed it off in favour of asking Misao the question that had been burning at her for the past few minutes.

"How did you guys know where I was anyway?" she whispered, carefully peeking around a corner and then continuing towards her bedroom.

"Ah, well we were sitting in our tree minding our own business when out of nowhere this huge explosion blows one of the guard posts to smithereens," Misao giggled quietly. "You should have seen Yahiko, if I hadn't grabbed him by the shirt he'd have ended up breaking his neck at the bottom of the tree, he jumped so high."

Yahiko protested bitterly, yet quietly, to this assessment of the situation, but since Misao was still talking on regardless, he gave up and simply glared daggers at her instead.

"So we decided what the heck, since someone was giving us a nice distraction free of charge we'd come and save you from Battousai right then and there."

Kaoru decided now was not the time to bring up the fact that she actually didn't really need saving from Battousai. However, since, although she didn't know it, Misao was conveniently leaving out the part about having sat for the last month in the tree trying to find some way into the Fort Nox style compound she didn't really need to feel bad about it.

"We were just making our entrance when we saw you getting chased up the stairs by those two creeps, but by the time we got across the battlefield you'd disappeared in this maze and, damn it if it didn't take ages to find you."

Misao pouted at Kaoru like it was her fault and she couldn't help smiling, trying in vain to hide her laugh. Man, how she'd missed her ditzy, deadly little friend.

It took a long time with the precautionary measures, but finally they reached her room and once there, rescuing her bokken was a quick process.

It was Yahiko who first noticed something wrong.

"Is anyone else finding it hard to breathe?" he asked, panting a little as he rested his hands on his knees. Kaoru just laughed, giving him a nudge with her elbow.

"No, you're just unfit, Yahiko-chan. I bet you haven't been doing your training while I've been gone, have you?"

"No, seriously," Yahiko said, frowning. "I can smell something funny too."

Kaoru sobered up at that, remembering the smell she had noticed earlier. Sniffing the air, she froze as she suddenly recognised the scent of burning.

"Let's move," she cried frantically, grabbing Yahiko by the shirt and starting to run. "The building's on fire!"

The reverse journey was done a lot faster, caution thrown to the wind as they skidded round corners in their haste to escape. As they neared the stairs, sight became difficult, smoke that had been barely visible earlier built up into a thick, grey wall, burning their throats as they tried to breathe. The crackling of the fire was audible now and heat blasted them full in the face, making their eyes water.

The entire hallway below was blackening, flames licking up the walls, practically to the ceiling, yet impossibly people were still fighting everywhere, seemingly oblivious to their peril. Kaoru ignored them, however, after all it was their funeral, literally. She raced down the stairs, thankful that the blaze had apparently started at the other end of the room and had not yet reached their only means down. Yanking her top over nose and mouth, she pressed her back to the wall at the bottom, once again avoiding the fighting and now also the fire. She didn't need to look back to know that her friends would be right behind her.

She almost fell through the swinging door to the kitchen, gasping for the fresher air provided by the gaping hole where the old backdoor had been. She stumbled forwards into someone's chest and wondered fleetingly why this kept happening to her today.

Looking up, she found herself face to face with an old friend. He looked a lot worse than when she had left him though, his nose swollen to twice its normal size and bent at a sickening angle. This was just not her day. He grinned maliciously at her, ignoring the pain it obviously caused him to do so as tears sprang to his already squinting eyes.

She could feel Misao and Yahiko behind her, but they could do nothing with her pressed firmly against Konu's chest like a human shield. He clearly knew this, since he paid them no mind, focusing all his attention on her. He began to tighten his grip on her body, pinning her arms to her sides and squeezing the air from her lungs.

She had no doubt that, if the ball of red fluff hadn't launched itself at his head, he would, with his strength, have broken more than her ribs. He let out a scream of anguish as sharp claws drove into his face, allowing Kenshin kitten to cling on for dear life as Konu started swinging around trying to dislodge her.

The ride didn't last long though as the small animal was flung high into the air by the wailing man, bloody scratches now adding to the destruction of his face. Kaoru gasped in horror, stumbling backwards, eyes glued to the flying kitten. She skidded across the floor, grateful now that she was still only in her socks, and caught her in one hand, her bokken still held in the other. She didn't stop to catch her breath though, following her friends out of the door and into the night beyond.

The grounds were a total mess. Great craters had been created by the many explosions which had thrown up the earth all around. Small fires lit the scene with eerily dancing flames. Kaoru had to be careful of where she placed her feet as bodies littered the ground at odd intervals and, with only the light of the waning moon and the fires, it was hard to see.

She had no idea where they were going but trusted her friends to lead the way, keeping firmly on Misao's heels, as she and Yahiko strode purposefully across the compound. Kenshin kitten purred soothingly against her chest and the vibrations kept her from panicking in the darkness. They made it to the far wall without being noticed and found an opening, where it had been destroyed, to slip through into the forest on the other side.

"The car's not that far away," Misao whispered by her ear, and pointed in the direction they were to go.

It was that time just before dawn when the night was at its darkest and, since the fires were now behind them and the moon was hidden by the intertwined branches above their heads, it was almost pitch black. A cold wind whistled through the trees and made Kaoru curse her light indoor clothing. Her lack of shoes was now also becoming a problem to her, small twigs and stones constantly jabbing into her feet and the leaves, which at this late stage of autumn were thick on the ground, squelched horribly under her feet.

It took what seemed like an age to fight through the trees and underbrush to where Misao's car was apparently waiting and, by the time they did, Kaoru could feel little trickles of blood from the bramble cuts trailing down her legs. Needless to say, when they finally reached the car and she was informed by Misao that she was going to be riding in the trunk, she was not in the slightest amused.

"No"

"But, Kaoru," Misao pleaded. "There are definitely going to be people looking for you and we need you hidden. The backseat is not going to be good enough."

Kaoru scowled angrily, admitting the rationality of this idea silently to herself. She would never have told her friend that though. Finally, after much coercing, Misao managed to get her curled up on some blankets in the boot of the car and they were driving.

She didn't know how long they were on the road, moving in and out of a doze in the warm trunk, kitten molded to her side. She could hear the murmur of conversation from the front and the low playing of music, adding to the soothing aspect of the journey after the terror and excitement of the earlier events. She noticed things only vaguely, how the roads changed from slightly bumpy to smooth tarmac beneath the wheels as they must have left the country roads for city streets, how the car seemed to be going up a slope and then down, jostling her a bit in the process.

Finally, it pulled to a stop and she heard the sound of doors slamming. There seemed to be some commotion, voices and hurried movements, and she waited for several minutes with bated breath. It seemed like an age before the boot opened and she squinted in the light.

"We're here," Misao cried in a sing song voice, helping her out and smiling from ear to ear.

"About time," Kaoru growled. "If you'd left me in there much longer I'd have suffocated."

It wasn't strictly true, she had been surprisingly comfortable, but she was going to take full advantage of her right to grouch after being stuck in a boot for several hours at least. Yahiko, who was taking some things out of the back of the car, laughed loudly.

"That's because it took us that long to get Misao off Aoshi."

Kaoru blinked and took in her surroundings properly for the first time. She was in a garage with cars parked on all sides. Standing a short distance away, trademark trench coat pushed back so his hand could rest on one of the handles of his kodachi, was Aoshi. He bowed distractedly at her and she smiled faintly. He had no attention for her at all, his eyes riveted to Misao's form as she helped Yahiko unload some bags that were stuffed in the backseat. He had been worried sick about her, Kaoru could tell from the flicker of relief in his eyes and the dark circles under them. He caught her glance and she could have sworn his cheeks reddened just the tiniest bit, but he turned away too quickly for her to be certain.

"Let's head upstairs," he said flatly and walked off, coat flicking behind him in a way that made her stifle a giggle. Misao bounced along beside him, talking non-stop, not even taking time to breath, but it was clear that Aoshi really didn't mind. His head tilted just the slightest bit towards her.

"And then I hit the guy in the back of the head with my kunai from across the room and Kaoru's kitten totally shredded this guy's face when he attacked Kaoru, it was amazing, just flew through the air and onto his face, I mean that's what I call pet loyalty…"

Kaoru was shown first to a kitchen where she left her kitten with a bowl of milk and some fish, a reward for her good behaviour. Further down the corridor they entered a living room, nicely furnished with deep blue arm chairs set around a marble fire place. A small card table was set up in one corner, with some dark wood chairs placed around it. Kaoru took all this in quickly before her eyes fell on the young man standing in the middle of the floor.

"Nice work Mr. Shinomori, my master will appreciate your efforts," he said, a broad smile spread across his face that didn't quite reach his eyes.

Aoshi seemed to have frozen in place at the sight of him, but the words appeared to send an electric current through his system, forcing him into action. Pushing Misao back, he stood firmly in front of her, kodachi already drawn and ready. The young man's smile never faltered as he watched and Kaoru felt a shudder of unease slide through her.

"Aoshi-sama," Misao asked cautiously. "Who is this?"

Aoshi paid her no heed, his eyes never leaving the intruder.

"Allow me to introduce myself," he swept a low bow and his grin widened impossibly. "My name is Seta Soujiro and I have come to pick up Miss Kamiya for a visit to my master."

Kaoru paled visibly, hand tightening on her bokken. Something was very wrong with this young man, she could sense it, and she was absolutely definite she did not want to meet his master.

Misao frowned deeply, moving just as Aoshi had done to block her friend.

"Kaoru's not going anywhere," she said firmly.

"I beg to differ," Soujiro said politely. "As a member of the Oniwabanshu you are under the orders of Mr. Shinomori and since he has made a deal with my master to hand over the young lady, I will be taking her with me now."

Misao's gaze shot to Aoshi, questioning, but certain of denial. Ever faithful, she refused to believe Soujiro's statement unless confirmed by her Aoshi-sama. He did not respond or move as he continued to look at Soujiro, who had started across the room at a nonchalant pace, only stopping when he came across the human barrier.

"If you please, Mr. Shinomori."

Aoshi still didn't move an inch and there was a stand off of long moments as they regarded each other. Soujiro leaned forwards whispering something only Aoshi could hear and within the time it took to blink they were already in full swing. The sound of steel connecting with steel reverberated round the room, but it was impossible to see actual weapons, only flashes as the metal caught the light.

Within moments it was clear to Kaoru that Aoshi was never going to win. He was an undeniably amazing swordsman, his skill surpassing anything she could ever hope to achieve, but Soujiro's speed and precision were unmatchable. He moved with a grace that took her breath away, his katana almost an extension of his own body as he fought and twirled around the room in the primal dance she knew so well. Only one man she knew could have kept up with this incredible rapidity and that was Battousai.

Suddenly, a piece of a puzzle, Kaoru didn't know she was putting together, fell into place. This young man was just like Battousai, height, build and incredible talent with a katana. Her mind jolted back to the night Misao had almost died, to the small man who had very nearly gutted her friend as she fought him. She had been so certain at the time that Battousai hadn't done it and she'd been right because it wasn't him, it was Soujiro.

Kaoru watched in morbid fascination as, one by one, deep gashes appeared in Aoshi's coat, the pure white slowly becoming crimson with blood. Soujiro was playing with him, goading him into a game from which he could never hope to emerge victorious. She knew it was only a matter of time before the young man grew bored and Aoshi fell.

It happened faster than the eye could see, Aoshi hit the floor under a savage blow and was unable to raise his kodachi in time to block the next inevitable, deadly swing. A small figure was in front of him in a flash, allowing the blade to slice into her flesh instead. There was screaming and it took a moment for Kaoru to realise that it was her. She dashed across the room towards Misao's body lying in Aoshi's arms, broken and bleeding, only to be grabbed from behind and lifted bodily from the ground, flailing and scratching.

Soujiro watched the goings on around him for a moment, his head cocked a little to the side and his seemingly permanent grin still in place. Flicking his katana to remove Misao's blood with the ease of an expert, he turned away from the bodies on the floor as if they no longer interested him in the slightest.

"Bring the young lady to the car, and don't forget the master wants the little one too, don't be too rough with her, I think he wants her alive." Soujiro waved a negligent arm at Misao and started for the door, stopping a moment in front of Kaoru to smile at her. His blank, emotionless eyes were the only indication that he felt none of the joy the smile radiated. "I look forward to becoming better acquainted with you, Miss Kamiya, I hope we can be great friends."

Kaoru snarled at him, never taking her eyes from Misao's limp form as a big man with an AK47 slung over his shoulder bent to pick her up. Aoshi struggled with him a moment, but he was weak with blood loss and the man didn't pay much attention to him, simply knocking him out with a blow to the head and pulling Misao from his slackened grip.

Kaoru's vain attempts at resistance were ended, her bearer apparently growing annoyed with the extra effort of dealing with her wriggling, a sharp pain in the back of her neck her only warning of the unconsciousness to come. She had time to wonder why it was that she always ended up dancing with darkness whenever she was around the Oniwabanshu, before the lights went out.

**Author's note:** Thank you so much for reading! Please leave me a review with your comments, I always appreciate them and they really do make it worth the effort to write.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note:** Hello, dearest readers. I know that it has once again taken me about a century to get the next chapter done, but no need to panic, here it is! I'm actually pretty proud of it, it's longer than normal and I wasn't expecting it. I guess I just got my flow back, thank goodness. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did writing it and don't forget to review my humble offering! It really does mean the world to me when you do.

**Japanese Terms:**

Aishiteru- I love you

Aishiteru-desu– I love you too

**Chapter Eleven**

Aoshi felt like he was drifting to the surface of a very deep pool. At first there was only darkness as thick and heavy as molasses, weighing down his limbs and making it hard to move. Then suddenly a tiny spot of light flickered at the edge of his vision. He snatched at it, terrified that it might disappear and leave him lost in this oblivion.

He found himself in a soft bed, light filtering in through half closed curtains and the smell of hospital antiseptic permeating the room. He groaned softly, trying in vain to turn his head away, closing his eyes against the flash of pain that ensued. The sound he made had apparently alerted whoever was present to his waking and there was an immediate flurry of activity.

Either the lights were turned on or the curtains were opened, Aoshi couldn't be sure, but everything was suddenly brighter when he next opened his eyes. The unmistakable figure of Hannya was leaning over him, a roll of bandages in one hand and a bottle of a suspicious looking yellow liquid in the other. He lay perfectly still as the Oniwabanshu member began to tend to his wounds, placing a small amount of the liquid on the cuts that covered his chest and arms. None of them were very deep, but the blade had been aimed perfectly to coincide with the places which bled the most. He was horrified by how hard it was to maintain his control and not flinch as the ointment stung viciously on contact. He had endured worse pain, far worse, and yet it took all his power of will not to wince or make a noise.

"You lost a lot of blood, Aoshi-sama," Hannya informed him in a low voice. "The wounds you sustained were minor but taken together they were very nearly fatal."

Aoshi understood that this was supposed to appease him, to absolve him of the sin of weakness. He had lost a lot of blood, he could not be expected to be in top condition. It hit him like a ton of bricks, knocking the breath from his lungs. Everything that had happened played out in his head like a movie.

"Misao," he managed to choke out.

He needed to know, and yet was half terrified to find out.

"They took her, Aoshi-sama," Hannya said quietly, concentrating studiously on his work and allowing his Okashira the privacy of his own feelings.

Aoshi let the anguish reign and take over for only a moment before replacing his icy mask, but it was enough. He took hold of the fear, the guilt, and molded it, making it into something productive and so much more powerful. Rage, white hot and boiling. Was his Misao dead? The injury she had taken for him had been very near lethal and, with the blood loss, if she didn't get medical care very soon, she would fade away within a day at most. However, whether or not she died didn't change the fate of those who had taken her from him. They would all die, every last one of them.

The door crashed open, hitting the wall beside it hard enough to imprint the handle in its surface.

"You promised me, Okashira," Battousai roared. "You said that if they found us I should send her back to you. You said she would be protected and you failed. For that lie you will pay with your life."

Battousai's face was feral in its fury, teeth bared and eyes flaming amber. His hair, tied back in its samurai knot, shone like fire in the light, giving him an almost demonic look. He drew his katana with a ring of metal and started forwards, only to be stopped by Hannya placing himself between the assassin and his weakened leader. It was a mark of true loyalty, even love, and, if Battousai had been less distracted by his terror for Kaoru, he would have been impressed by the Okashira's ability to engender an affection deep enough to sacrifice life.

"Move aside, Hannya," Aoshi said in a tone that could have frozen the Sahara desert. "The Battousai has his right to revenge, but by taking it he will lose his ally and the location of his woman."

There was silence for a moment that seemed to draw out infinitely. The word was hissed through clenched teeth.

"Where?"

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Kaoru was very confused. She had fully expected to wake in a cold dungeon room with only barred windows and a hard stone floor for company; instead she was in an old fashioned canopied bed surrounded by plush pillows and under a soft velvet comforter.

The room was beautifully furnished with what looked like real antiques. A huge dark wood wardrobe took up most of the far wall and in one corner two red velvet armchairs were placed neatly on either side of an intricately carved coffee table.

She slipped out of the bed and padded silently across the silk shag carpet, feet sinking into it with each step. This turn of events was just too strange. Who kept their prisoner in a room like this? Except, of course, Battousai.

Her mind told her it was futile to check the bedroom door, no one would be stupid enough not to restrain her and also leave the exit wide open. Yet her father had always taught her to check out every available escape route. Apparently, her father was right and her captors really were that stupid. The door opened without so much as a creak to give her away.

She slowly peaked outside ready to pull back as soon as she caught any movement. There was nothing but an empty corridor painted in varying shades of cream and gold. She should have been elated at the open escape route, but all Kaoru felt was physically sick, a wave of panic rising within her and forcing, for a moment, all coherent thought from her mind. Why would her kidnappers, who had taken so much trouble to get their hands on her, not even bother to try to restrain her? Even Battousai had chained her to the bed to keep her in place. Admittedly, his attempt had failed but at least he had tried. She could think of only one answer to her question. They didn't need to. Whatever they had beyond this bedroom was bad enough to make them confident she was going nowhere and she was fairly certain she didn't want to find out what that was.

The urge to scream in frustration was immense. Why did this always have to happen to her? Did she have a big kidnap me sign stuck to her back that no one had told her about? All the same, some deep instinct told her that bolting out into this unknown would end very badly, but Misao was out there somewhere gravely injured and needing her. She couldn't just abandon her friend, not after everything the young ninja had done for her.

Kaoru took a deep breath and screwed her courage to the sticking place. She would find her friend and they would both get out of here together. Stepping out into the neutral shades of the corridor, she was forced to stop. For all her new bravado, she had no idea which direction to follow and, in the end, fell back on the leave it to fate technique she used so often.

"Eeny, Meeny, Miny…"

"Mo," a male voice cut in and she spun to find a tall young man leaning against the wall next to her, a cocky grin oddly reminiscent of Sano's spread across his face. She stared at him, taking in the strangeness of his appearance. His blonde hair was spiked up at a gravity defying angle that she doubted gel alone could manage, a purple head band aiding it in its efforts. The lurid orangey red suit and purple tie he wore clashed hideously with each other and the elegant cream surroundings, making her want to wince in pain.

"Whatcha up to, Darlin'?" He asked in a southern drawl, lifting his eyebrows questioningly.

Her mind reeled for a way out, screaming conflicting answers at her. Run now, stay and talk your way out of it, beat him to a pulp! Finally she went with none of them.

"I'm doing that."

She pointed over his shoulder down the corridor and as he turned his head to investigate, she flew back inside her room, slamming and locking the door behind her. It was only a simple lock with a turn switch under the door handle. It would hold all of two minutes, but there wasn't anything else she could do. She doubted running would have helped, probably ending in inevitable capture, and she had no idea what staying would have led to, but without a weapon as back up she didn't really relish finding out.

Her eyes searched the room frantically for some hiding place, since escape was out of the question with no windows to speak of. The first thump of a body against wood sent her into panic. Dashing to the large wardrobe, she threw the doors open, only to find that it was so packed with silk and satin that a body could never fit in between. She couldn't empty the clothing without obviously giving her hiding place away.

Ready to scream now, she turned from it, finding only the bed in front of her. The thought of hiding under the covers like a child afraid of the monster under the bed made hysterical giggles rise in her throat. She stamped them down angrily and then it suddenly popped into her head. The only other place to hide was under the bed.

The door rattled against the force of the blow it received as she slipped under the cover hanging over the edge of the bed, successfully blocking the view of what lay beneath. The door finally succumbed to the heavy blows it was taking and gave way with a creaking groan. She kept perfectly still, even holding her breath, hoping against hope that the guy was as stupid as he seemed.

The moments dragged on into what felt like hours while she waited. She couldn't lift the cover to check his whereabouts without possibly giving herself away and the soft carpet muffled his steps so she had no idea what he was doing or where. Her heart hammered against her ribs with such violence that it physically hurt and her eyes started to fill with unwanted tears. Why was it always her? It seemed like she never stopped running and hiding anymore. She used to stand up for herself, fight against those who thought they could intimidate her, but not anymore. A little voice in the back of her mind reminded her that she had never had to face anything like this in the past, a few drunken lechers and muggers, yes, but never heavily armed kidnappers truly capable of doing anything.

Everything inside her seemed to freeze as the cover slowly lifted and she was faced with the almost comical upside down view of Mr. Bad-dress-sense.

"That's not a very imaginative hiding place, Darlin'" He leered.

Kaoru saw red and she seemed to lose control of her cognitive functions. The first come back that popped into her mind came flying out of her mouth unbidden.

"Yeah, well at least I don't look like I have a broom for hair."

Shaking his head, he gave her a look of hurt.

"Sugah, this isn't just hair, its art."

She laughed, a high pitched sound, half fear half derision.

"Really, really bad art."

He chuckled, reaching under the bed and grabbing her by the arm.

"You got a smart mouth on you, little lady, it'll get you into trouble one of these days and, hey, what do ya know it might just be today."

There was no point in struggling as he dragged her out. He was ten times stronger than she was, it would only end in carpet burns and a waste of energy. She didn't make it easier on him either though, dropping the tension in her limbs and letting her body become dead weight. The guy didn't even break a sweat, lifting her completely off her feet before dropping her suddenly and rather unceremoniously on the ground.

"The Boss man would like a word with you, Darlin'."

He smirked cockily as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and started to lead her out of the door. Kaoru resisted the urge to elbow him in the sternum, not trusting that his arm wouldn't just accidentally tighten enough to cut off her airway.

She paid close attention to their route as he led her down endless cream coloured corridors, but after a while she realised that the map she was supposedly building in her head was useless. Left, right, through the second door on the right next to the potted fern, down a long set of stairs, on and on into infinity. Even Battousai's fortress had had some defining features, markers on which to base her position, but this place was one identical plush pale couch and sparkling stainless steel table after another.

Finally, they came upon a breathtaking gallery. One wall was taken up entirely with floor to ceiling bay windows, allowing the light filtering through the leaves of the cherry blossom trees in the orchard outside to dapple the beech wood floor. The opposite wall was lined with beautifully framed portraits, depicting a variety of scenes from somber gentleman to vibrantly dressed ladies.

There was only one other entrance at the other end of the long room, but it seemed to dominate over the simple elegance of its surroundings. The set of ceiling high double doors in a heavy looking wood, carved to portray the trials of Hercules, were clearly more expensive than her apartment and its contents together.

She told herself she was not intimidated by the grandeur. After all she had grown up with the same luxuries, seen far more impressive demonstrations of wealth. Unfortunately, the change in circumstances made this show just a little scarier.

Mr. Broomhead came to a halt right in front of the doors and stood there, his arm still resting comfortably round her shoulders. She waited, not at all in a hurry to encounter what lay beyond, but when the seconds ticked by and nothing happened she began to get antsy. Then he spoke, so quietly she was forced to hold her breath because the sound drowned out his words.

"You know, you're mouthy. I like that in a lady, so I'm gonna give you a little friendly advice, Darlin'. Whatever the Boss man asks for the answer is 'yes.'"

As if on cue the doors swung wide open, revealing a ballroom at least twice the size of Battousai's, all gleaming floors and velvet sofas. At first Kaoru could have sworn it was empty, the noise of the opening doors resounding in the silent room, but then out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of something, or more precisely someone, lying spread across one of the seats.

The sound of her scream joined the echoes, her mind reeling against the shock of what she saw. Misao was flopped like a rag doll against the cushions of the chaise longue, one arm hanging off the side so that the fingers trailed against the floor. An IV drip hung from a stand beside it, snaking down into her wrist, and bandages only slightly paler than her skin were wrapped tightly around her waist. A dark red stain marred the pure white of the cloth from one shoulder down to her hip and her breathing was shallow, the rise and fall of her chest barely visible.

Everything became a blur and, next thing Kaoru knew, she was on her knees beside Misao's prone body, sobbing incoherently as she brushed her hand across her friend's hair.

"Misao! Oh Kami, please I can't lose you," she whispered.

She jumped as a hand squeezed her shoulder. It was probably meant as a comforting gesture, but it failed miserably in its attempt. The heat from the touch burned even through her layer of clothing and made her skin crawl. However, when she tensed, the owner didn't move it the way most people would at this obvious sign of discomfort.

Kaoru turned her head just a little and regarded the hand, a look of distaste flitting across her face. The limb was completely bandaged except for the fingers and she really wished they had been. A mottled dark brown, they were wrinkled as though they should have belonged to an aged man. She recognised it instantly. When she was sixteen years old it had given her nightmares for weeks after she had had to shake it. It wasn't the hand of a kindly old gentleman, it was the hand of a man who had nearly been assassinated in a vicious arson attack ten years ago.

Swallowing back the bile that was rising in her throat, she followed the progress of the bandages up the arm to meet the eyes of her kidnapper. She remembered once being told that the bandages covered his entire body, although right now they were hidden by a beautifully tailored designer label suit.

"Shishio-sama."

He nodded his head regally and smiled. At least she assumed it was supposed to be a smile, it was half hidden by the cloth wrapped around his face, making it appear more of a grimace than anything else.

"Miss Kamiya, thank you for obliging me with your visit," he said in his deep voice. "I very much appreciate it."

Kaoru didn't bother to mention that she hadn't really had much choice in her visit. It was pretty clear he knew perfectly well how she had got there. She absently touched Misao's hand, gently rubbing it in a soothing manner more for her benefit than for that of her unconscious friend.

"I had my associate invite you here to discuss a little business transaction, Miss Kamiya."

Shishio gestured casually over his shoulder to where Soujiro was standing stiffly by a small side entrance, legs slightly apart and hands behind his back. His katana was still hanging menacingly from a belt at his waist and the large plastic grin he had worn after slicing open Misao's chest was still spread across his face. The urge to tear it off was almost irresistible.

"Perhaps," she said, fighting to keep her voice steady. "Perhaps I might request that my friend could get some medical attention, while we…um…discuss."

Shishio shook his head, looking regretful.

"I'm afraid that will not be possible. For the moment, as you can see, we have done all we can for her. Further medical assistance will depend entirely on your decision."

"My decision?" She queried. "I don't think I quite understand you."

"She isn't very intelligent, Shishio-sama, are you sure you wish to link yourself with her?"

A dark haired woman appeared at Shishio's side, draping herself over him and looking down her nose at Kaoru's position on the floor. Her traditional crimson kimono was barely clinging to her shoulders and looked about ready to drop down and reveal things Kaoru for one really didn't want to see. Shishio, from what she could tell through the bandages, was not overly pleased at her interruption.

"Miss Kamiya, may I introduce my assistant Yumi, who might I add is just leaving," Shishio said a little tersely, placing heavy emphasis on the words 'assistant' and 'leaving.'

Yumi made a disgusted noise, too elegant to be a snort and too much like a snort to be described as anything else, and glided away, her sandals making only the lightest tapping noise on the polished floor. Soujiro helpfully opened the door for her as she passed, closing it firmly in her wake.

"Forgive my assistant, Miss Kamiya. She can be a little temperamental, shall we say."

Shishio held out one of his burned hands to her and, when she took it reluctantly, helped her to stand. "Let us get back to business. I believe time is of the essence if we are to help Miss Makimachi."

He led her over to the windows overlooking the sloping manicured lawns beyond and stood a moment looking out.

"Miss Kamiya, I am a wealthy man, in fact, I am officially the wealthiest man in this country. I am capable of taking very good care of what is mine."

Kaoru waited, trying to hold onto the threads of her patience. Had he not just said himself that Misao's life was hanging in the balance? If she was going to have to make a decision that would save or kill her friend she would much prefer to make it sooner rather than later. Seeing this, Shishio appeared to change tactics.

"I am going to come straight to the point, my dear. In return for my aiding your friend, you will give me your hand in marriage."

Whatever Kaoru had been expecting Shishio to have kidnapped her for, this particular idea had never occurred to her. Suddenly, Yumi's attitude and words made sense. Apparently, the lady who was clearly Shishio's mistress was understandably unhappy with his proposed plan to marry another woman.

"Why?" She asked without preamble.

Shishio raised an eyebrow in silent question and she clarified.

"Why do you wish to marry me? A woman who you have met perhaps twice and only at social functions where we could never have gotten to know one another."

At her words, a mask seemed to drop away and the real Shishio came to the surface.

"You think I might have fallen in love with you?" He laughed sneeringly, looking her up and down. "You flatter yourself, Miss Kamiya. Your father's company is large and very profitable, I simply wish to expand my empire by absorbing it. A claim by marriage is far stronger than a mere business deal. Not to mention, I was told you would no doubt stop the transaction from occurring if you discovered my rather disreputable company was involved. I was trying to make this easier on us all by pretending you have a choice."

He moved away and started across the room to where Soujiro and Mr. Bad-dress-sense were waiting, before turning back to face her.

"You will marry me or your friend will die slowly and painfully. I understand that this will be a hard decision to make, so I will give you a few moments."

With that said, all three men left the room.

Kaoru stood by the windows for long moments simply staring at nothing. Her mind, which had already been put under a lot of strain recently, could not seem to process this new overload.

Finally, she moved dazedly back to where Misao was lying and slipped down onto the floor beside her. The stain had grown a little larger and the blood in the drip needed changing. She was running out of time.

"Don't worry," she whispered quietly, stroking Misao's hair. "Everything is going to be fine. I'm going to get you help. You're going to be fine, honey, just hang in there for me, just hang in there."

Kaoru began to rock gently backwards and forwards, wrapping her arms around herself as she cried. She felt as if she was coming apart inside. Misao was dying, Battousai might have died in the mansion's fire, who even knew if Aoshi had survived his injuries. She was alone, horribly and terrifyingly alone.

The double doors to the room slid opened once again and she could here footsteps behind her.

"Shishio-sama, you called me?"

Kaoru whirled round, recognising the voice instantly.

"Uncle Takeda!" She cried, picking herself up off the floor and hurling herself into his arms. "Please you have to help me. Misao needs a doctor and this madman is trying to force me to marry him. We need to get out of here quickly before he and his flunkies comes back."

Kanryu stood stiffly for a moment, neither holding her nor pushing her away. Then, to her shock and horror he began to laugh, not just that, but laugh hard so that he had to move away and put his hands on his knees to keep from toppling over. It took him at least a minute to calm down enough to form a coherent sentence.

"You think I would help you? Koshijiro's spoilt brat?" He finally snarled. "You are just as naïve as your father. I'm surprised you haven't suffered the same fate."

Kaoru looked at him stunned, before blurting out.

"My father died in a car accident."

Kanryu snorted with laughter, shaking his head.

"Your father was a meddling fool. He had no idea when a good thing was in his hands. Do you know he was planning to close down the company? Our company, the one I spent years of blood, sweat and tears helping him to build? All because his bratty little daughter wouldn't look at him with as much respect anymore. I mean really, he should just have bought you a pony and had done with it, but no he couldn't stand the idea that you might not approve of him. Did he think of what I might want? What I might need in all of this? No, not once did he come up to me and ask how his idea would affect me. I was going to lose millions, more than millions, I was going to lose my knee caps to a drug lord, if I didn't keep my job. Koshijiro deserved everything he got."

Kaoru swallowed around the anger that was building steadily within her. She had a feeling she knew where Kanryu was taking this and she was going to kill him when he said it.

"What did you do?"

Kanryu laughed once again, a harsh grating sound that set her teeth on edge.

"Perhaps your father should have been a little more cautious with his car. You can run out of brake fluid so quickly."

Kaoru lost all control. This was the last straw, the last nail in the coffin of her sanity. Flinging herself at him, she used every ounce of strength, biting and clawing at his flesh, tearing his clothes and drawing blood. She only wished she had her bokken, broken bones would have been far more satisfying. Only one thing made sense in her mind right at that moment, this man must suffer, suffer such pain that he could no longer think or feel past his own agony.

Suddenly, to her great disappointment, she was yanked up and off Kanryu's screaming form. Seized from behind, her arms were pinned to her sides, leaving her hanging in the air legs flailing. She couldn't help feeling like a scolded kitten held by the scruff of her neck. She cursed violently and fluently, struggling against the grip, her eyes never leaving the bleeding man on the floor.

Kanryu lay for a moment curled up in a ball, motionless and whimpering. Then when he realised that Kaoru had been successfully restrained, he got up and wiped himself down, sending her a superiour glare.

"I am going to enjoy seeing Shishio-sama put you in your place, you little brat. This is an Armani suit you just ruined, you know." He held up the torn jacket for emphasis, before throwing it away from him as if it had been soiled by her touch. "And while you get your come-uppance, including a little torture I hope, I will be basking in my share of an even larger company. You know I planned it all, don't you? Your father's tragic demise, your marriage to Shishio. I had to do a little extra work when that assassin got involved, hiring that ninja group to ferry you around out of Battousai's reach until Shishio-sama was ready for you. You always do make things more complicated than they need to be."

He wandered over to her and stroked her cheek in a pseudo-affectionate gesture. The touch felt clammy and made her want to be sick. In response to the unwanted sensation, she spat in his face. A chuckle reverberated against her back and she couldn't help grinning from ear to ear.

"You little…"

Kanryu raised his hand, ready to give her a vicious slap, which would undoubtedly have hurt with the number of rings on his fingers, but he was prevented from doing so by someone gripping his arm in what looked like a painful way.

"My master wishes his bride to be flawless in the wedding pictures, Mr. Kanryu," a cheerful voice informed them and she looked up into the smiling face of Seta Soujiro. "He is in the other room and has invited you to come and take tea with him."

Soujiro waved gracefully towards the door everyone seemed to be going through and left Kanryu no choice in following him, never slackening his grip on the man's arm.

"You are the fool, Takeda," Kaoru spat at his retreating back. "Do you really think Shishio is going to let you have anything? He wants it all and a little wimp like you is not going to get in his way."

Kanryu looked over his shoulder at her, laughing heartily, but she saw a flicker of doubt beginning to form in his eyes and that was all she could wish for and more. He would see his end coming from a great distance now.

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Blood dripped from every surface and Battousai was working on painting the final wall. Jinei was balancing on the tips of his toes, his shoulder pinned to the wall by Battousai's katana. If he came down out of his precarious stance, the weapon would tear up through the muscle and bone of his shoulder and leave him mutilated. The man didn't seem overly concerned by this, however, simply continuing in the same way as he had for the last hour, laughing increasingly loudly until the sound bounced back off the walls magnifying his insanity.

"Where is she, Jinei?" Battousai asked for the ten thousandth time. "Tell me now."

Jinei cocked his head to one side and said exactly what he said every single time. Nothing. With a roar of fury, Battousai drew his katana out of the wall and up, slicing its way out of Jinei's body with another gush of blood.

"Tell me or you die now. The world will thank me for it anyway," Battousai snarled by his ear and Jinei laughed.

"Battousai, I have got what we need."

The man in question turned from where he had just skewered Jinei's other shoulder to look at Aoshi. The Oniwabanshu leader regarded the scene with emotionless eyes. While his companion had been taking out some of his fury and frustration on the serial killer, he had been searching the hideout for information. Aoshi had found it in the form of a picture which Shishio undoubtedly did not know Jinei had obtained. It showed the exact location of Makoto's estate.

"I know where they are."

Battousai nodded, removing his katana and swiftly decapitating his prey. The head thumped to the floor and rolled away into a corner. The laughter still resounded in the room. He ignored it, already moving towards Aoshi before the body hit the ground, flicking his wrist expertly to get rid of the blood coating the shiny metallic surface of his katana.

The black Porsche was waiting where they had left it outside the warehouse. No one would be stupid enough to steal it. Flakes of snow were beginning to fall from the darkening sky and Battousai felt a sick sense of déjà vu as he crunched across the layers already coating the ground. He would paint this pure white red before the end of this day.

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Kaoru stood in front of the full length mirror, watching as the maids fiddled with the folds of her white wedding kimono. The beautiful deep red kimono embroidered with intricate designs of flowers she would be wearing at the wedding reception lay ready on the bed.

Her hair was already perfectly arranged with shining gold combs and her make up done, but she couldn't find any joy in the way she looked. Your wedding day was supposed to be the greatest day of your life, the mild cold feet, the walking down the aisle to your beloved who would watch with love and adoration, the profession of your eternal devotion with the sudden knowledge that, despite being uncertain earlier, this is exactly the right thing to be doing.

Misao was hanging on to life by a thread in that ballroom, waiting for her to say the words that would save her. She would have done it immediately, but Shishio had insisted that the ceremony be done properly, full costume and all. It was just another demonstration of his sadism.

A tear slipped down her cheek and one of the maids dabbed it away, not making eye contact as she fixed the damage to Kaoru's make up.

There had been a time when Kaoru had expected to have the perfect wedding to the perfect man, in fact she had been certain that just before all these disastrous events occurred Kenshin had been about to propose to her.

Flashback

_The fairy lights covering the yacht twinkled in the still water below, making it appear as if there were stars all around them. Kenshin had decked out a table with candles, flowers and gourmet food. Classical music played somewhere in the background as they ate, adding to the effect of serenity and romance. _

_Kaoru smiled at her red haired boyfriend across the table, reaching across to take his hand. He had been acting fidgety all evening, beginning sentences only to trail off and restart on an entirely different topic._

"_This has been the best date of my life, Kenshin," she whispered, entwining their fingers. "You must have put so much effort into this, the flowers, the carriage ride, the yacht, I don't think I can thank you enough."_

_Kenshin smiled the goofy grin that always lit up her day and lifted her hand to his lips._

"_You do not need to thank Sessha, Kaoru-dono, that you don't. You deserve to be given all of this and so much more. Sessha just wishes he deserved you."_

_She frowned, disentangling her hand from his so she could bat it gently._

"_Don't you dare talk like that Himura Kenshin, you are a wonderful, thoughtful boyfriend who has given me nothing but joy," she paused, calming herself. "If anything, I don't deserve a great guy like you."_

_Kenshin gave a little bark of laughter and stood up, coming around the table to her side._

"_Kaoru-dono, Sessha has something he has wanted to ask you all evening, that he has."_

_Kaoru held her breath, looking up at him and watching the light from the fairy lights and candles dance across his face. His hand slipped into his suit jacket pocket for the millionth time that night._

"_Kaoru-dono, will you…" He stopped, looking uncertain, and her heart fell. "Will you dance with Sessha?"_

_She tried to hide her disappointment with a smile, as she took his proffered hand and stood. She could feel him trembling as he pulled her against him and they began to sway gently to the music._

"_Aishiteru, Kaoru-dono," Kenshin murmured against her hair as they spun across the deck. Kaoru rested her head on his shoulder and tightened her grip. If he wasn't ready to take the next step that was fine. After all they had all the time in the world._

"_Aishiteru-desu, Kenshin."_

End Flashback

Kaoru felt like her heart was shattering. She hadn't known it that night, but their time together had been up. Perhaps if she had, things would have ended up differently, she would have clung that little bit tighter to the man she loved. There was no use thinking about that now, though. The day after Kenshin had begun to act strangely, not in the cute way that had foretold what she hoped was a proposal, but changing, becoming more volatile and possessive. Life as she knew it would never be the same again.

"You had better enjoy your luck while it lasts, Miss Kamiya."

Kaoru looked up from staring blankly at the floor to find Yumi standing in the doorway. Her crimson kimomo had been exchanged for an even more revealing black one that matched her hair and barely covered her chest. Kaoru wondered vaguely how she managed to keep the cloth from falling, but let it go as really not worth being interested in.

"My luck?" Kaoru asked incredulously, watching as one of the maids lifted the white hood over her head. Ironically, it was meant to symbolise submission and obedience to her future husband. "I don't think I'd call it that."

Yumi pouted her red painted lips and flicked her hair over her shoulder.

"You are marrying the most eligible bachelor in the world, Miss Kamiya," she snarled. "He is the best of everything, wealth, looks and wit."

Kaoru looked at her as if she had lost her mind. Was this woman blind or simply insane? Shishio was a sadistic megalomaniac with bandages covering his entire body from head to toe. The only thing that was true in her assessment of the man was his money and Kaoru was hardly interested in that.

"My only consolation is that you won't be basking in what should rightfully be mine for long." Kaoru just stared at her, ignoring the fan that was being slipped into her obi belt. It was another symbolic piece. The bride was supposed to gradually open it during the wedding ceremony to bring future happiness. Fat chance of that happening. "Shishio-sama has promised that as soon as you have had your tragic skiing accident on the honeymoon, he will whisk me away to Rome and marry me in one of the beautiful old cathedrals."

Kaoru nodded dumbly more to herself than Yumi. She should have known that Shishio wouldn't keep her around after the wedding. She was a threat to his expansion as long as she was alive. It made sense that he would remove her as soon as humanly possible.

She couldn't back out now, though, not with Misao downstairs living only off the blood transfusions they were feeding into her arm. Even if she was horrible enough to turn her back on her friend, Shishio wasn't going to let his chance at owning her father's company walk out of the door.

"Are you ready ladies?" Mr. Bad-dress-sense appeared in the door, grinning and wearing a rather nice black kimono. "The Boss man is waiting for you."

The maids suddenly sped up their activities, fiddling with the last touches to her outfit and making sure that her hair was perfect even when shielded by the hood. To Kaoru's shock and relief they slipped the small traditional sword known as the kaiken into her obi belt beside the fan. Shishio obviously knew that he had her right where he wanted her. He knew there was no way she was going to jeopardise her friend's life. All the same though, it was nice to feel she had some protection.

Finally, the maids seemed satisfied with their work and filed out one by one, bowing respectfully to the bride. Kaoru watched dimly from outside herself as she took the man's arm and started down the corridor towards her doom.

"Since you're going to be the Boss man's new lady, I had better introduce myself, I guess," Mr. Bad-dress-sense chattered as they went, ignoring Yumi's protests behind them. "Bit rude of me not to do it before, but you know us country boys, we don't have no manners. The name is Chou Sawagejou, it's nice to meet ya."

Kaoru didn't respond, didn't even look at him, focusing entirely on putting one foot in front of the other. They turned in a different direction from before, but this time she didn't even attempt to pay attention to their route. What was the point? She wasn't going to try to escape. They arrived at another set of large wooden doors. Shishio apparently had a thing for them. They opened to reveal a chapel complete with stain glass windows and pews. Bouquets of white lilies lined either side of the aisle and pale velvet hangings bedecked the stone walls.

The different coloured light from the windows shone down on Shishio and the minister standing by the altar. Shishio was wearing a more expensive version of Chou's black kimono, only his had white crests on the front and back. She could tell even from this distance that it was an heirloom.

The traditional wedding music began and she turned her head to find a small orchestra playing in one corner. She made her way down the aisle without so much as a smile and came to a halt beside Shishio.

"I'm sorry I could not give you a Japanese wedding, my dear, the ceremony was too long and could not be reproduced in the time frame I desired."

Kaoru nodded shortly and turned to face the minister. He, like everyone else, did not make eye contact with her, lifting the bible he was holding with trembling fingers and coughing nervously before beginning his sermon. She tuned out most of it, concentrating instead on not being sick all over Shishio's shiny black shoes. It was a long and convoluted speech filled with extracts from the minister's bible about loving and cherishing ones partner. Kaoru thought it best not to mention that his long drawn out ramblings were futile, this marriage was going to be short, bitter and end in death. She only pulled herself back to the subject at hand when the important part came up.

"Shishio Makoto, do you take this woman, Kaoru Kamiya, to be your lawfully wedded wife, to live together in the Holy Estate of Matrimony; to love, honor, comfort her and keep her in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, keep you only unto her as long as you both shall live?"

Shishio smiled down at her and she could tell the "As long as you both shall live part" bit amused him.

"I do."

The minister nodded anxiously, looking forward to his escape, and turned to Kaoru.

"Kaoru Kamiya, do you take this man, Shishio Makoto, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to live together in the Holy Estate of Matrimony; to love, honor, comfort him and keep him in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, keep you only unto him as long as you both shall live?"

Kaoru swallowed the bile that rose in her throat and choked out the hated words.

"I do."

**Author's Note:** Review, review, review!!! Seriously, it is the highlight of my dull existence and you don't want a depressed author. After all depressed + author = character deaths!


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's note: **Hi readers! *waves and then dodges the flying projectiles* Ok, ok, here is my excuse for the incredibly late chapter! First, I was doing my final exams (which were, of course, of the utmost importance), then came graduation and all the jazz that goes with that and, finally, there was my holidays, during which I spent as much time as possible with my friends before we all head off to university. Having said this, I still humbly apologise and prostrate myself before your feet!

Anyway here it is. It was actually supposed to be the second to last chapter, but I got a little carried away and decided to split it into two to avoid it getting too long. Hope you all enjoy it as much as I did writing it and many, many thanks to TheAlchemist'sDaughter for her amazingly fast and accurate beta reading! Not to mention, a special shout out to indusina for her lovely message that inspired me to really get down to work.

**Chapter Twelve**

Was it possible for an emotion to make you physically ill? Kaoru would have had to say yes, sitting up momentarily from her prone position by the toilet only to drop back down as nausea threatened once again to overwhelm her. There had been too many shocks in this one day alone, her mind and body simply could no longer cope with the stress.

Head swimming and stomach churning with the loathing she had felt, Kaoru had used the last of her waning strength to keep herself upright, as she was escorted back from the exquisite little chapel to her equally beautiful bedroom, a married woman. The thought caused bile to rise in her throat, burning like acid. She was married. It should have been the happiest day of her life, but instead she was curled up in a foetal position on a bathroom floor hoping against hope that it was simply a terrible nightmare. She prayed she would wake up soon in the arms of her redhead. He would murmur soothing words against her ear and gently run his fingers through her hair, dimming the horror of her dream and slowly driving the shadows away.

It was ironic really that not too long ago she had thought Battousai the worst thing out there, a sickening monster who made her life a living hell. Now it was only too clear that he had instead been attempting to protect her from the dreadful conspiracy that was really stalking her every step. Why did realisation always come when it was far too late?

Misao's pale face flitted across her mind's eye and she shot to her feet, careless of the already irrevocably creased white wedding kimono swaying delicately around her. How could she stay here, wallowing in her own misfortune, forgetting all this time that her friend was lying dying on a chaise longue in a ballroom without medical facilities to aid her? She had to make sure that Shishio kept his side of the bargain and Misao was properly taken care of.

She was distracted from her horrified and guilty musings by the repetition of the dainty knocking sound which had occurred earlier and been studiously ignored.

"Kaoru-sama, I am dreadfully sorry to disturb you, but we must dress you for the wedding reception immediately. It begins in half an hour and you must be ready to greet your guests." The maid's voice was shrill with panic and she sounded close to tears.

Kaoru had no doubt that it was the thought of Shishio's wrath, should his bride be late for his ridiculous social gathering, which was causing the terror. She was perfectly certain that the punishments doled out by the sadistic bandaged man were as cruel and painful as the mental torture he was putting his own bride through. There was no need for a wedding reception to make their marriage official, Shishio merely wished to pour salt into her open wounds by forcing her to pretend to be the blushing, joyful newly wedded wife in front of acquaintances who no doubt knew of the farce.

She knew she shouldn't care for the predicament of the maids. They had watched her be blackmailed into walking down the aisle with a man so black at heart there could be no shred of light in his soul. In fact, they had even made her up for the occasion. Yet, even so, deep inside she could understand what seemed on the surface to be their cowardly inaction and felt a pang of pity for these women who suffered under Shishio's tyranny everyday.

So, even if Kaoru had not meant that moment to leave the locked bathroom in search of her friend, she would have done so for the pleading sound of the maid's voice. Thus, walking purposefully to the door, she allowed the maids' striving ears to hear the sound of their salvation as she clicked back the lock.

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The air in the car fairly crackled with the energy emanating from its occupants. It was almost physically uncomfortable to be in close proximity to Battousai and Sano wondered, from his position in the seat behind him, how long the man would be able to retain the tension almost tangibly lacing his muscles. It was clearly a stupid question; the wrath visible in every sharp movement his friend made would remain as long as his fear for Kaoru lasted.

If anything were to happen to her before his redheaded companion could reach her…It didn't bear thinking about. Hell hath no fury like the Battousai enraged and Sano had no doubt that the whole surrounding region would suffer for Shishio Makoto's mistake. The sky would once again rain the blood of the Battousai's enemies. His friend only feared that the man would not, in his grief, be capable of stopping there.

Kaoru had been a stabilising force in Battousai's life since her entrance into it. Sano had to admit that the sometimes volatile tempers his friend flew into, even after his resolution to escape his dark assignment, had become less frequent and finally faded entirely under the calming influence of the young woman's presence. Judging by their sudden and terrifying return after the temporary separation of the couple, Sano could only speculate fearfully as to what the effect of her death might be. Blood, both innocent and guilty, a lot of blood.

Hiding a shudder, he tore his gaze away from Battousai's powerful and ever darkening ki and turned instead to regard the driver of the vehicle. However, this change was no better. A tension identical to that of Battousai's was clear in every line of the Oniwabanshu leader's body, only instead of the rising heat and sparks of flame building in the space around the redhead, there was an icy chill from Aoshi's aura that made the hairs on the back of Sano's neck stand up.

Unlike Battousai's obvious anger, there was no physical movement to give away the Okashira's fury and distress. His hands remained loose around the wheel, his eyes still focused, a very good thing considering the fact that he was the one driving. Yet, despite his clear efforts to retain a stoic façade of indifference, his pain was palpable in the very space around him.

Aoshi's ability to maintain, at least outwardly, a semblance of composure astounded and impressed Sano. He had no doubt that the man's fear was immense and almost worse than that of his fiery friend. Battousai, at least, knew that when Kaoru left the Oniwabanshu base she was in good condition. The Okashira had seen his love sliced open in an attempt to protect him, a fact that would no doubt haunt him no matter the outcome of future events. The icy ninja prided himself on his independence and ability to fight, yet, in the end, the only thing preventing him from being in an equally cold grave now, was the body of the woman he loved. Her sacrifice was unbearable to him and now he had no idea whether Misao was alive or dead.

Pity rose inside Sano, forcing him to turn his gaze from the front of the car for fear of arousing suspicion of his feeling. Neither of the two fighters would have wanted or appreciated the emotion welling up inside of the tall man, in fact they would probably have seen it as an insult to their already wounded pride. Sano couldn't help it though. If Megumi had been one of the two girls taken, nothing, no obstacle no matter how big, would have kept him from destroying those foolish enough to attempt it.

No one touched his woman without suffering his wrath. This chauvinistic thought allowed his mind to dwell for a moment in a happier place than where he was now. If Megumi had overheard the words playing through his head, she would have flown into one of her famous and stunning furies, removing some very vital parts of his body. She did not hold with his sometimes overbearing caveman tendencies.

"What are you grinning at, Stupid?" Yahiko growled, glaring at him from the seat beside him. "Kaoru and Misao could be dead right now and you find it funny?"

Sano scowled at being caught doing something even he, with his infamously bad manners, knew to be completely inappropriate. Luckily, only Yahiko seemed to have noticed though, as both the men in the front seat were entirely focused on their own thoughts.

Suddenly, the anger building inside him burst its dam. It wasn't that he didn't care for Kaoru, on the contrary his very being sang for the revenge they were going to take and this stupid brat dared to question his commitment, his love? The men who had taken his Jou-chan would pay for what they had done with their blood and, after some suffering, with their lives, but until he could reach the compound where she was kept, there was nothing he could do, but wait and try to think of better things.

"You shut up, you little bastard," Sano spat. "You shouldn't even be here. What can you do to help with your toy sword?"

Yahiko's face went a surprising shade of puce and he spluttered furiously.

"At least I have a weapon, Roosterhead. I have every right to be here, Kaoru is like my sister…" He trailed off, looking shocked at his own words, and about to cry in fury and fear.

Sano was so angry at the Roosterhead quip and the earlier insinuation of his indifference to Kaoru's abduction that the next words slipped from his lips before he could stop himself. Megumi always did say he had a big mouth and a matching foot to stuff in it.

"Well, at least if I'd been there I wouldn't've hidden like a coward and let my _sister_ be taken away."

It was an unfair thing to say and Sano knew it. There was nothing Yahiko could have done even if he had stayed and fought. The men that had taken Kaoru were highly trained fighters and the young spiky haired boy would have been no match for their strength. If the tall man thought about it, what Yahiko had done was actually a lot smarter and braver than losing his life in a fight he could never win.

Flashback

_Yahiko dawdled down the corridor, admiring the battle scenes depicted in the old paintings on the walls. Although he had studied under Kaoru and her no killing philosophy, the wars of the world had always fascinated him. Even now, despite the gravity of the situation they were facing, he could not help falling behind to take a closer look at some of the more bloody images._

_He was examining the minute and loving detail put into the gore of an ancient battlefield, when the sound of his friend's voices up ahead changed. Kaoru had drilled into him the instincts of a warrior. Changes of ki and voice were both things he had learned to pay attention to and he now no longer had to be particularly aware of them to notice a difference._

_Treading on silent feet, he slid along the wall to the entrance of the room his companions had just entered and peeked inside. Aoshi's broad back prevented him from glimpsing the person he was talking to, but something must have happened that Yahiko couldn't see, because before he could assimilate the next movement the clash of metal resounded through the room._

_Now that the Okashira had moved aside, Yahiko could finally get a clear view of the room. Several burly guards stood against one wall, guns slung over their shoulders and eerily blank expressions pasted to their faces. He shuddered as he looked at them, their eyes were as depthless as stone and seemed to stare at nothing in particular._

_Frustration built inside him. Kaoru and Misao were a mere step away from him, yet he could not draw their attention to his presence without also attracting those of the puppets against the wall. He knew without a doubt that to do that would be extremely hazardous to his health. Despite his intensive training with Kaoru, he was not a superhero and he could not dodge bullets. Besides, he was the only member of the group that had not been identified. He had seen neither hide nor hair of another Oniwabanshu member since their arrival at the base and could only assume they had all been sent away on missions. He was the only ace up his friends' sleeve. Kami save them._

_A crash drew his attention back to the fight at hand. Fear uncoiled in his gut like a viper, angry and fanged. Aoshi was struggling despite his skill. As Yahiko watched, another well timed slash from his small, agile opponent caused dark blood to stain the Okashira's pristine white coat, faltering in another step of the deadly dance. Each blow forced the man to slow his pace that little bit more and it wouldn't be long before one would fall that he could no longer block._

_It all happened in a split second. Yahiko closed his eyes unable to bear seeing, as Aoshi hit the floor, the smiling man above him already preparing his death with the shining metal of his katana. The scream that met his ears was inevitable, but the name being called confused him. Opening his eyes, he saw Kaoru held firmly in the arms of a guard and Misao's bleeding body being dragged from the limp grip of the weakened Okashira. _

_A memory suddenly pressed to the surface at that ridiculous moment. Kaoru leaning over him, clucking crossly as she dabbed at a cut above his eye. He remembered the scene vividly, he had stumbled in, bleeding and bruised after picking a fight with a guy twice his size for a perceived insult to the young waitress in his favourite café. Not surprisingly, he got his ass kicked and Kaoru had been furious with him, adding more bruises to his already marred flesh, before sitting him down to clean him up._

_"You know, Yahiko, backing down in a fight is not cowardly."_

_He had snorted derisively, wincing as she patted one of his wounds with a little more force than strictly necessary._

_"__He who fights and runs away will live to fight another day," she had continued, shrugging at his non-plussed expression and cruelly patting him on his wounded shoulder. "Perhaps you're just too young to understand, Yahiko-chan."_

_Once he had finished attempting and failing to beat his teacher to a pulp, he had thought about her words. At the time, they had made no sense to him. Running away from a fight made you a coward, pure and simple. Yet, now as he stood frozen, watching the suffering of his friends, the words became clear and he __did the only thing he could think of to help them, he hid. He didn't know it, but this was to be the decision that saved Aoshi's life._

End Flashback

"Perhaps, Sanosuke, you should not speak of things that your meagre cognitive faculties cannot grasp," Battousai snapped, voice low with anger.

It was the first time, since they had stepped into the car, that he had spoken and if it had been anyone other than one of the two assassins in front of him, Sano would have sent them to the hospital.

"Yahiko did the right thing. I owe him my life," Aoshi added stonily.

Sano clenched his fists in his lap, holding back the urge to sulk and managing by some miracle to keep his expression emotionless. They were all ganging up on him for one stupid remark. There was no way he was going to respond though, both the assassins were aching for a reason to relieve some of the pent up energy built up in their systems and he definitely didn't want to be the means for them to do so. Following his instinct, he kept himself, with a show of incredible self control for him, from saying anything that would allow either of the men to feel they had been provoked.

"I'm sorry, man, what I said was uncalled for," Sano said gruffly, reaching over to punch Yahiko gently on the shoulder.

Yahiko didn't reply, simply nodding stiffly to the scenery flashing by. Sano sighed heavily. This was going to be one hell of a journey.

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"Where is she?" Kaoru hissed, standing by the entrance to the grand hall, resplendent in her deep red uchikake kimono.

The intricate, gold embroidered song birds fluttering across the silk gleamed in the light of the room and the delicacy of the sewing coupled with her natural beauty meant that Kaoru outshone every other woman effortlessly. Not that this fact interested her in the slightest, although it clearly did a very jealous Yumi, who stood at a respectful distance beside the ever smiling Soujiro. Kaoru had wondered in passing, as she had grudgingly taken her place beside Shishio to greet their guests, whether the bandaged man had ordered the young swordsman to remain at Yumi's side for the duration of the reception, in case her temper should lead her to ruin his plans with an inappropriate outburst. She wished she would.

The thought had been thrust from her mind immediately, as she took in her surroundings with a discreet sweep of the eye. Misao was nowhere to be seen. It shouldn't have surprised her that Shishio had removed her friend to a more suitable location, considering that guests were arriving to help them celebrate their happy union. Yet the fact still set alarm bells ringing in her mind.

"Where is who, my dear?" Shishio asked in syrupy tones, no doubt for the benefit of anyone listening. Her acerbic reply was interrupted by the arrival of yet another guest.

"Ah, Mr. Jumoto, welcome to my humble home," Shishio smiled superciliously, bowing. "I am honoured by your presence. Allow me to introduce you to my new wife."

Mr. Jumoto turned to look at her and Kaoru immediately lowered her gaze, clasping her hands demurely before her and bowing to a depth identical to that of her husband. Bowing was incredibly important. Ever since she was a little girl, she had been taught that the depth of her bow and how long she maintained it could mean the difference between showing respect or causing insult, so in a world where honour was everything, bowing became of paramount significance.

When she returned her eyes to Mr. Jumoto's face, she found herself looking into a gaze of mingled pity and sadness for the millionth time that night, before he returned her gesture and left, murmuring platitudes as he went. She fumed inwardly as she watched him walk away. She didn't need useless sympathy from these people, she needed help.

"You know exactly who I mean, Mr. Makoto," Kaoru snarled quietly, purposely refusing to use his first name. She might not be able to openly disobey him, but she would be damned before she lay down and took his abuse without at least some small rebellion.

"Your friend is being taken care of as we speak," Shishio said, leaning a little nearer to her and placing a hand against her back, as if soothing the nerves of his anxious bride.

Something about his words made Kaoru frown. It was an odd construction to use, he could simply have said that Misao was receiving medical care. Stepping away from his hand, which burned her skin despite the layers of cloth between them, she turned to look at him warily.

"What do you mean Misao is being taken care of?"

For a split second, the mask of condescending that Shishio always wore, slipped just as it had done earlier in this same room. The eyes, showing through the slits in the bandages, gleamed with a malicious glee that made her chest constrict and her stomach drop. Then it was gone, to once again be replaced by his arch superiority and disdain.

"I do not break my promises, Mrs. Makoto." Kaoru flinched at her new name just as he had wanted. "I promised you your friend would not die slowly and painfully and I have fulfilled that promise."

Horror enveloped her, stealing the breath from her lungs and leaving her speechless. His words left no doubt as to their meaning, especially with the dimmed sparkle of vicious joy still bright in his eye. Misao was dead. Her sweet, energetic friend, bursting with life and ambition was gone. Her hands fisted at her sides, itching to beat and tear at the bandages covering Shishio's scarred flesh, to make him feel some small part of the pain and suffering he had caused. He was playing God with people's lives, deciding who was worthy and who was not or more precisely who was in his way and who was not.

She felt like screaming and wailing with loss, but right at that moment more guests arrived, smiling with fake joy and eyeing her with the same pity and curiosity as all the others. She managed by some miracle to reign in her pain and fury, clearing her mind for the first time since she had seen her friend sacrifice herself for her Okashira.

"Mr. Kumori and Mrs. Kumori, what an honour it is to have you in my home tonight," Shishio said, bowing lower and for a greater period of time than he had deigned to give any of the other guests who had arrived so far. Perfect. "Allow me to introduce you to my wife, the late Mr. Kamiya's daughter."

Kaoru had recognised Mr. Kumori instantly. He was the owner of several large uranium mines in the north and apparently Shishio was courting his favour. He had, however, made a huge miscalculation just now, taking away the only safeguard he held against Kaoru's temper. She could not care less for her own life anymore, but she had cared for that of her friend. Now he would pay the price.

Smiling insolently at Mr. Kumori, Kaoru maintained eye contact as she bowed stiffly, more of a bob of the head than anything else. Her hands remained at her sides. She wasn't going to have anymore of this submission crap.

Mr. and Mrs. Kumori looked at her in shock, before turning in outrage to their host. Shishio immediately apologised, saying that his wife was tired and overwrought with the excitement of the day. She was also more educated in western etiquette than Japanese culture and she did not understand the significance of her actions. A lie, of course.

Mr. Kumori appeared to accept this explanation, perhaps because he had heard the rumours of the brutalities suffered by Shishio's enemies. He smiled beneficently at Kaoru, before demonstrating proper manners by bowing deeply and leading his disgruntled wife into the crowd.

Shishio rounded on Kaoru the second they were gone, a snarl parting what she could see of his lips and his eyes glinting with the light of insanity. With blurring speed, he had backhanded her so quickly and so hard she was actually knocked off her feet, unable to prepare herself, despite her extensive martial arts training.

For a moment the room around them fell silent, everyone's eyes riveted on the woman in the red kimono lying on the ground, cheek already bruising and lip cut, dripping crimson blood to match her attire. Then, with the same swiftness, they returned to their conversations, eyes averted from the scene for fear of attracting the wrath of the unstable man.

"You will never disgrace me like that again, do you understand me?" Shishio roared, practically foaming at the mouth. "For the short time that you have the honour of holding my name, you will comport yourself with the dignity the title merits."

"You hold no power over me anymore, Shishio," Kaoru laughed derisively, spitting blood at his feet. "I care nothing for my life and you have already destroyed your only bargaining chip. I will behave as I wish."

Shishio shook with irrepressible rage, raising his clenched fist to hit her again. In a blink, Yumi was at his side, hand resting a little under the jacket of his black suit and body pressed against every line of his own.

"Shishio-sama, please stop" she purred, catching his hand and holding it to her cheek. "She is not worthy of your touch."

Kaoru watched in horrified fascination as, between one second and the next, Shishio's temper changed. Homicidal fury replaced by calm contempt. Running a tender finger down Yumi's cheek, he rested an arm around her waist and smiled.

"You are right as always, my sweet. My lovely bride is simply confused and misinformed." The word lovely had an entirely new meaning with the way he said it, somewhere between a hiss and a spit. "Of course, I take part of the blame for her uninformed state. I shall rectify my error immediately."

He waved the hand that had been raised moments ago to hit her, signalling to someone. Soujiro moved faster than Kaoru could catch and Shishio took a thin rectangular object from his hand, fiddling with it a moment before holding it out for her to take. It was a touch phone and on its screen were numerous boxes, each with an image fed from a security camera around the compound.

A flash of red caught her attention and she focused on one of the boxes in the far right corner. Soujiro's smiling face moved into her line of sight as he bent down beside her, helpfully touching the screen and enlarging the box to fill it. It was of a courtyard somewhere within the compound. She could just make out three all too familiar figures hidden in the shrubbery surrounding it. Her heart dropped, they had no idea they had been seen.

"There are military trained snipers positioned on the roofs of the buildings surrounding that courtyard, Miss Kamiya. One word from me and the Battousai and his friends will suffer the same fate as Miss Makimachi."

Kaoru should have felt joy at the discovery that her friends had not been killed in the fire that had engulfed Battousai's mansion, instead there was a complete absence of feeling. Of course, it also shouldn't have surprised her that they had done so. It was going to take something far greater than a fire to take down Battousai or Sano.

"What does it matter, Mr. Makoto. My friends are dead anyway whether I obey you or not," she hissed, directing a look of pure hatred at the bandaged man.

Any normal human being would have, at least, been disconcerted by the obvious loathing she felt for them, but Shishio merely laughed coldly, watching her with vicious enjoyment.

"That is quite true, my dear, but would you really be able to live out your few remaining days with the knowledge that you were the direct cause of their deaths? Would you not prefer to give them a fighting chance at survival, as opposed to an ignoble, fruitless death?"

Even as the words left his lips, Kaoru knew them to be true. She would not be able to bear the idea of continuing, even for a short while, if her own pride and obstinacy had led to the death of her friends.

Shishio had won and his triumphant smirk showed he knew it. She lowered her head in silent submission, handing the touch phone back into his waiting hand. As soon as it was in his possession once more, he turned his attention away from her, no longer interested in his broken toy.

"Soujiro, Chou, please ask the guests, with my most sincere apologies, to vacate the premises. We have some unforeseen intruders."

Soujiro nodded eagerly while Chou, who had just arrived from the buffet table with an armful of food, sighed dramatically, before leaving to usher away the many people milling about the room. Shishio returned his gaze to Kaoru, who had stood up and was resignedly smoothing down the layers of her kimono.

"I underestimated the intelligence of your Battousai and his comrades, Miss Kamiya. They should not have discovered my location so quickly, if at all. I will not make that mistake again."

She gave him a venomous look, but refrained from responding. Further rebellion was useless, it would only lead to death and pain. The only hope she now had left was that Shishio really was underestimating her friends' skills.

"Shall we go and welcome our uninvited guests, my blushing bride?" Shishio asked, smirking cruelly.

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Aoshi crouched low to the roof, breathing heavily. Dark blood dripped from his kodachi onto the lifeless body of the last gunman. The man's face was still contorted with shock and terror, a walkie talkie hanging limply from one hand where he had been about to radio for help.

Frustration warred with anger, as the Okashira attempted to steady his racing heart and rasping breath. Sweat dripped down the back of his neck and every limb ached with the strain of the blows he'd struck. There had been twenty snipers, five on each of the surrounding rooftops and he had killed them all before even one could shout or get off a shot. Normally he would have done this with ease, sliding like a shadow soundlessly between the men, watching them drop like flies, but with the injuries Soujiro had inflicted he could barely move, let alone use the stealth tactics that were the trademark of his organisation.

After a few seconds of rest he was finally able to move again without suffering from unbearable jolts of pain. It wasn't entirely comfortable either, in fact most people would have been curled up on the tiles of the roof, crying in agony, instead of climbing to the edge of it to give the ok signal to his companions.

Catching Battousai's attention with a slight wave of the hand, he watched as Sano and Yahiko slipped away into one of the other buildings. They had their own mission to complete. Then, carefully remaining in the blind spot of the security cameras, he continued on his way.

The unspoken plan was very simple, each assassin was in charge of finding and rescuing his own woman. Once done, there would be no returning to help the other, no matter how dire their situation.

Aoshi silently slid down the drainpipe of the building he was on and crept along the wall, following the blue print of the compound layout he had memorised. It had been very simple to do, but the document had not been so simple to find. It had taken Hannya a full hour and half to locate and bring it to his leader, a length of time unheard of in all the years the ninja had worked for the Okashira.

It was lucky they had managed to find it, however, since the building he entered in search of Misao was a never ending maze of door lined corridors. On initially looking over the blue print, Aoshi had surmised that in Misao's wounded condition she would undoubtedly be kept in the hospital wing of the compound. That was if she was alive, of course. His mind skittered away from this unbearable thought, unable to cope with the throbbing ache it caused to burn through his chest.

His intention had been to use the air vents to reach his destination, since he was pretty sure outside the main house everything would be sporting the minimalist chic look. Thus meaning that he would have no where to hide from a passing guard unnoticed. Unfortunately the blue prints demonstrated that Shishio had come to the same conclusion, motion detectors and pressure pads had been installed all through the pipe work. The only way to turn them off was with Shishio's own retina scan.

It took extreme concentration to dodge the security cameras fanning the corridors, finding and using the blind spots in the motion. It was like a dance, weaving in and out, something Misao would no doubt have enjoyed immensely.

Aoshi's senses were also primed for any foreign ki approaching his position. Most people could only sense the auras of strong individuals, such as warriors, but through incredible dedication he had honed his skill down to being able to pinpoint the exact location of even the tiniest mouse within a ten foot radius.

His hands rested on the hilts of his kodachi under his coat the entire time, ready at a moment's notice to draw and attack. Yet, surprisingly, he met no one and sensed not even the slightest ki signature. In the silence, the corridors rang with the sound of his footfalls despite the lightness of his tread.

It was not hard to guess when he had reached the hospital wing, even without the blue prints as a guide. Rounding a corner and looking through the small window in a swinging double door, he found that the décor suddenly changed from dull beige to stark white and several gurneys rested in a line along one wall.

He was about to push through, having rapidly scanned the area for signs of life, when a delicate touch to his shoulder had him spinning round kodachi drawn. Curse him for being so hurried that he had not thought to retrace his earlier sweep behind him. His desperation to find Misao was feeding into and detracting from his ability to accomplish even the most basic of protection work.

A young woman stood before him, smiling innocently, one hand still outstretched towards him. Black hair shone in the strip lighting and, for a split second, his mind played a cruel trick on him, superimposing Misao's face onto that of this female. It was ridiculous, she bore only the slightest resemblance and was also much older.

Shaking himself, he took up a defensive stance, eyeing the woman warily. There were no obvious weapons on her person, but that didn't mean there weren't any. She was strangely dressed in a kimono of turquoise, purple and yellow material, a heavy looking bow of thick rope peeking from behind her back, wrapping over her shoulders and under her armpits like some sort of restraint.

"Well, aren't you just the handsomest thing I've seen in days," the woman purred, before a dark look passed over her face and she scowled, muttering grumpily. "I mean a girl simply tries to plait Shishio-sama's hair and suddenly she's persona non grata, banned from basking in his hotness."

Aoshi filed away the detail that this woman was about as sane as Misao was demure, tensing as she moved a little closer to him.

"But here you are, my knight in shining armour, come to save me from spending another dull moment in the presence of these brutish guards." She didn't bother to hide the way her eyes roamed his body, undressing him with her gaze. "Well, of course, you are no match for my Shishio-sama, but you will do for now. What's your name, honey? Mine's Kamatari Honjo."

She slid up close to him, a finger drawing a pattern lightly on his chest. When he refused to respond, moving backwards towards the double doors, she pouted.

"Why don't you forget about that skinny, little thing through there and come have some fun with a real woman."

Aoshi lashed out angrily with his kodachi and, if Kamatari had not managed to dodge at the last moment, she would have received a wound almost identical to Misao's. As it was, her kimono was slashed to the waist, falling away to reveal…nothing.

Unable to stop himself, Aoshi blinked in shock, a move equivalent to a jaw drop for anyone else. There was no bra to be seen, because there were no breasts for it to hold. Kamatari wasn't 'a real woman'. He had been propositioned by a man. The expression on his face was stony, a continuous scream playing through his head.

Anger flashed across Kamatari's face as he pulled the tattered pieces of his kimono together with one hand, the other shooting out of sight round the corner. It reappeared with the biggest scythe Aoshi had ever seen, a ball and chain dangling from the top.

The Okashira rapidly dissected the weaknesses of the weapon and, therefore, the advantages it presented to him. It looked extremely heavy, making it remarkably powerful and lethal if it connected with its target, but unwieldy should he miss.

"Well, now that wasn't very nice, was it? I think I'm going to have to teach you how you should treat a lady," Kamatari spat, swinging the scythe with brutal force.

Aoshi dodged easily, landing lightly on the balls of his feet and throwing his momentum into his counterattack, kodachi trained on Kamatari's now exposed side. He had, however, failed to take into consideration the backlash of the ball and chain as it thundered through the air, following the motion of the scythe.

He quickly dropped into a low crouch, feeling how close he had come to a whole lot of pain, the ball brushing back the hair on the top of his head. He rolled into a standing position once again, sliding out of the scythe's range.

Kamatari rounded on him, raising the weapon into the air above his head and spinning it steadily faster until it was a blur and a hiss. It was a deadly technique, the ball and chain spinning around his body as a moving shield and the twirling scythe prepared to slice through any obstacle, which it duly did. Large chunks of the plaster and paint covering the walls and ceiling were gouged out, flying through the air and adding to the things he was forced to avoid. They didn't seem to bother Kamatari in the slightest, the weapon moving ever faster.

Aoshi's mind raced for a solution, a way of creating an opening for attack. Frustration built inside him as he continued to nimbly dance out of Kamatari's reach, tensed and ready for any mistake the other man might make. Misao was dying somewhere, damn it, and he was being forced to fight a she-male thug without the finesse to wield a weapon that actually took more than power to use.

Then it came to him in a sudden flash of brilliance. It would take a certain amount of ingenuity to pull off, but Aoshi had more than enough of that. In one smooth, rapid motion, he pulled back his arm and threw a well timed kodachi, forcing Kamatari to consciously block the attack.

The weapon connected with the metal of the chain, before falling to the floor, the sound ringing in the quiet corridor.

"That was pathetic, honey. I'm disappointed. You didn't actually think that would work, did you?"

"No, I did not," Aoshi replied in his usual monotone drawl, already in motion.

In the moment he had thrown his kodachi, Kamatari had been distracted, mistaking his move for a ridiculous attempt to pierce his shield. The scythe had stopped its mesmerizing whirling and Aoshi seized the advantage. Before Kamatari had a chance to raise his heavy weapon for another attack, he went in for the kill. Bringing his kodachi down on the weak spot on the handle of the scythe just below the weighty metal burden at one end, it snapped with a hideous crack.

Kamatari stared down at his broken weapon with a look of pained disbelief, unable to assimilate the fact that it was destroyed. His whole body shook with the force of his wrath and he clenched his hands into fists around what was left of his precious scythe, tensing as though to attack again.

"Do not continue this foolish fight. Your weapon is gone and you cannot win. Do not stand in my way and I will allow you to leave with your life," Aoshi warned, his gaze never wavering from the man's menacing form.

Something like insanity shone in Kamatari's eyes as he raised them to the Okashira's face.

"I can never be at his side. I am not a beautiful woman such as Yumi or a masterful swordsman like Soujiro. There is no place for me near him." His words were spoken thoughtfully, as though he had completely forgotten Aoshi's presence. "Yet, I will serve him with everything I have. I will not let him down. I will complete every mission without fail. Shishio-sama will come to need me."

The last words were said on a scream, as he caught the ball and chain on a small hook attached to the unbroken end of his weapon, sending them hurtling towards Aoshi before the man had time to realize what was happening.

The Okashira narrowly avoided the blow, sliding sideways on pure instinct with the grace and speed of a jungle cat. Then, before Kamatari had time to blink, he moved forwards, slicing into one of his legs and forcing him to his knees. Lifting his kodachi to strike the final blow, he was beaten to the punch, as the other man pulled a needle from the sleeve of his torn kimono and drove it smoothly into his own neck.

Aoshi watched emotionlessly as the blood flowed rapidly from the wound, Kamatari gasping in the agony of his own making.

"Forgive me, Shishio-sama," he choked out, gaze trained on something only he could see.

On his last shuddering breath, the light faded from his eyes and he lay still.

Aoshi moved to pick up and stow his kodachi in their sheaths, flicking the blood off the blade he had used. Time had run out, he needed to find Misao now and get her out of here before the guards made their appearance. They would no doubt have seen the fight with Kamatari on the nearby security camera and have called for back up. Normally, he would have been able to take on an entire room full of the barely trained thugs, but he could already feel his body weakening under the strain of his exertions and he did not think he would be able to transport Misao and deal with them at the same time.

Pushing through the swinging door into the hospital wing, he began to search the many rooms down the corridor. One after another he found them dark and empty of life, not even a patient or a medic in sight. There wasn't a single ki signature, neither Misao's nor anyone else's. With each passing moment, his worry increased. Had he been wrong? Was Misao not in this area? Did that mean she was dead? But that couldn't be, Kamatari had accidentally let slip a very useful piece of information during his ramblings. He had said that he would find the 'skinny, little thing' through the double doors.

Trying to keep his fear in check, he entered the second to last room. Harsh overhead lighting bounced off sterile metal countertops, blinding him. The room was bright white and smelled, as all hospitals do, of disinfectant, chemicals and disease overlaid by a metallic scent only too familiar to one as accustomed to carnage as Aoshi. Right ahead a pristine white wall, defiled with a dark, dripping stain. Blood. Aoshi's world dipped and spun for a moment, thoughts whirling. It was arterial spray, he had seen it enough times to be able to tell. His heart stopped in his chest before picking up a furious, panicked pace. Fear mingled with grief in his breast.

The room was deathly silent aside from a slow plink…plink……plink of liquid dripping onto the black linoleum floor. Aoshi couldn't see where it was coming from. He could just make out a wrought iron bed partially hidden behind a screen. His body begging for rest, he forced it into motion, thrusting it aside.

Misao lay corpse-like, skin almost translucent in the fluorescent lights and it suddenly became obvious to Aoshi why he had not sensed her presence. Even this close to her, he could barely feel her ki. Had it not been for the slight rise and fall of her chest, he might well have mistaken her for dead. Giddy relief flooded his system, despite the obvious gravity of her condition. She was alive. There was still hope.

The man slumped across her legs was not faring so well. Blank eyes gazed unseeing from the head lolling over the side of the bed. An ebbing flow of blood oozed from the deep gash severing his neck from ear to ear. A gun lay uselessly at his feet.

With a low sound of contempt and fury, Aoshi grabbed the back of the man's uniform, wrenching him from Misao's limp form to dump him unceremoniously into the puddle of his own blood. Death had been given to him too quickly in the Okashira's opinion.

It was only the lightning reflexes honed by years of training that prevented the scalpel from rending his carotid artery. A glint of deadly metal was the only warning and, in the split second it took his brain to register it, his hand had already shot out, grasping Misao's wrist in a vice-like grip.

Misao's pupils were dilated to the point where her blue irises could barely be seen, a mixture of adrenaline fueled hysteria and drugs driving her on. There was no recognition in her eyes, perhaps because her body was in shock after what it had been put through. With the wound Aoshi had seen inflicted on her, she should not have been conscious let alone attacking him with the brutal intent to kill. It was clear that the only thing keeping the strength in her body was her innate instinct for survival and the iron will he had always admired her for.

Carefully freeing the scalpel from her clenched fist, it was obvious that she had been grasping it incredibly tightly, a deep indentation cutting across the palm of her hand. The second her weapon was wrestled from her grip, the fight left her body and she slumped as if in defeat, certain of her imminent death.

"Misao," Aoshi whispered, laying her back against the bed to inspect her injury.

It was roughly bandaged and not much care had been taken for her comfort. An IV drip was still in her arm, but there was no blood for it to feed into her. They had kept her on a knife edge, providing her until recently with enough blood to survive, but not giving her the aid she needed to recover.

Gently brushing some hair from her pale face, he noticed the slight blue tinge to her lips. She was not going to last much longer without serious medical attention. He needed to get her to Hannya as quickly as possible. The other ninja should already have reached the rendezvous point with the necessary equipment.

Aoshi moved with great care, sliding the needle of the useless IV out of her arm and preventing anymore blood loss by pressing a finger over the tiny wound. Misao would need all the blood she could get if she was to survive to reach Hannya. Then, t§enderly lifting her into his arms and cradling her to him, he stepped over the dead man on the floor and made his way to the exit.

It was viciously frustrating how slowly he had to travel, afraid to jar the limp woman in his arms for fear of harming her further. Surprisingly, though, no one attempted to stop them, as he retraced his steps through the building, avoiding the debris of his fight with Kamatari.

Once outside, it became clear why no obstacles had been laid in their path. A howling alarm was blaring through the compound and, if he was not mistaken, the smoke curling up from the doors and windows of several of the far off buildings signaled that Sano had successfully started his revenge. It was highly doubtful that any of the guards would be paying attention to the security monitors in his building when chaos was reigning elsewhere.

"Hold on, my Misao." Aoshi tightened his grip on the body that felt so fragile in his arms and quietly slipped away. "Just hold on."

**Author's note:** As always, I would really appreciate your comments and reviews. After all, the more I get, the more excited I am about writing you some more!


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note:** Well, hello there old friends! *waves nervously* It's been a long time, hasn't it? Who'd have thought it would take me an entire year to update again, but hey at least I've proved that I'm still soldiering on! My first year of university kind of sucked up all my time, but really at this stage there's no excuse for taking so long. It actually took me until my internet went down yesterday to finally sit my butt down and finish this, so let's all thank my rubbish internet connection for this chapter! Hope you enjoy guys! There's only one more to go, how exciting is that?

**Chapter Thirteen**

It really was true, revenge was sweet. Sano grinned like a kid in a sweet shop as he opened the rucksack he'd gingerly lowered to the floor. The deceptively harmless looking pipes strapped inside gleamed in the fluorescent lights and he took a moment to gaze at them in awe.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, he freed the first row of bombs, lifting them slowly out of the rucksack and lining them up on the floor with their detonator. He was literally playing with fire and he knew it. One wrong move and the explosives would blow, killing him and anyone else in range. Megumi would definitely not be amused if he came back missing a limb or, worse, in a body bag.

Sano chuckled at the image of the fiery doctor shouting at his ghost, getting frustrated when whatever she threw at him went straight through. It really wasn't funny though, but then he had no intention of blowing himself up today so it also didn't matter.

He was just lifting up the first pipe, ready to slide it into one of the artistically crafted holes he had made with his pickaxe, when a voice nearly caused him to drop the bomb.

"Oi, Roosterhead, what's taking so long? You waiting for the guards to come and help you?"

Yahiko stood, scowling and holding a can of gasoline at the other end of the corridor.

"Shut up, squirt. I'm trying to concentrate here," Sano snapped, returning the glare and ignoring the way his hands shook. He'd nearly let the pipe slip through his fingers. 'Do you want us to go up with this joint?"

Rolling his eyes disdainfully in the way only teenagers could, secure in his immortality, Yahiko returned to pouring the petrol across the floor in great swathes.

"Just hurry up, would you? We ain't got all day."

Sano chose to refrain from commenting in favour of not killing them both, slipping the pipes one by one into place and making sure they were stable before moving on.

"Right, let's blow this jukebox, sunshine." Sano carefully lifted the rucksack onto his shoulder and started for the exit. At the look of confusion on Yahiko's face, he sighed. "Time to trip the light fantastic and get outta here, kid."

"Great, who let the crazy person carry the explosives?" Yahiko muttered, slouching after him. "And don't call me kid!"

Sano waved a hand dismissively, eyes trained on the two other buildings already blazing in the afternoon sunlight. The shocked shouts of unprepared guards attempting to douse the all-consuming flames made his already large grin spread to epic proportions. It served them right for burning down his home. It had taken him forever to find a place that both he and Battousai approved of. Their criteria had differed so completely. He had wanted a romantic spot to attract the ladies, or more specifically one lady, and Battousai had been insistent on a fortified location, not something that spelled love nest.

Sano sighed heavily at the thought of having to rebuild or relocate if and when everything ended the way it was supposed to, soothing his despair with the enticing little red button on the detonator in his hand. There was a second of silence before the storm hit, flames bursting from every opening. It writhed like something alive and in agony, giving off an intense heat that burned the backs of their necks as they dashed to a safer distance.

"Hey, you said I could press the button this time!" Yahiko howled, his face scrunching in a way that made him look much like a petulant toddler.

"Ah, I forgot, kid, my bad. You can do it next time," Sano replied, his tone unrepentant and gleeful as he gazed at the ever mounting fireball that used to be a building.

"You said that last time," Yahiko grouched, shoving his hands into his pockets and nimbly evading a piece of flying debris. "And don't call me kid."

"Yeah, well, I got a lot on my mind…kid." Dodging the angry kick aimed at his shins, Sano looked around for the next target. "Tell you what, you pick the next place."

Yahiko grumbled softly, knowing perfectly well that the next time would be exactly the same. Sano was just too enamored of his new toy. All the same, he didn't complain again and instead looked around for the next objective. He'd take what he could get, anything to keep his mind off what might be happening to Kaoru right now. Spying a large red brick building a distance away, he pointed at it.

"Good choice, you got taste," Sano nodded approvingly, punching the boy's shoulder before lifting one of the petrol canisters and making his way towards the structure.

It didn't take them long to discover that it was actually a very poor decision. It was in fact the armoury and security building. Normally it would have contained over fifty heavily armed thugs, all dying for an excuse to try out their weapons. However, luck was somewhat with them, most of the guards had been called to help with the other fires, leaving only ten or so to chase them back through the corridors towards the exit, guns blazing.

"You have seriously shitty taste, kid!" Sano shouted as he barreled round another corner, trying valiantly not to jostle the rucksack full of explosives on his back.

"Well, you should have paid attention to the sign saying "Security" in big black letters, before just walking into any random room, idiot," Yahiko growled back, turning his head to glare at the taller man. "We could have snuck back out if you hadn't marched straight into their bloody main office."

Yahiko's eyes widened as Sano abruptly yanked him by the back of his shirt, nearly taking him off his feet. Had he gone too far? Was the idiot actually going to hit him? Sano had to know that if Kaoru made it through her ordeal, and Yahiko refused to believe she wouldn't, he would suffer tenfold if he hurt him.

"You," Sano snarled, loosening his grip on Yahiko's shirt and balling his fists at his sides.

The happy-go-lucky Sano Yahiko knew was gone, replaced by the vicious assassin he actually was. This must be what the former street fighter's victims saw, not that any of them were alive to tell their tales. Yahiko would have been scared if the anger radiating from the man's form was aimed at him, but Sano's eyes were trained over the top of his head and if looks could kill whoever it was would be dead right now.

"Yo, Sanosuke, long time no see."

Yahiko turned to stare at the blond standing at the other end of the corridor. He had never thought to see a man with hair that could match Sano's for its height. How much gel must these men use to achieve that look? Normally, he would have jumped at this chance to poke fun at Sano, but, considering the fact that they were now trapped between two groups of heavily armed guards, he wasn't seeing as much of the funny side.

"When was the last time we saw each other?" The blond tapped his chin thoughtfully, a grin plastered across his face. "Oh yea, I remember, it was that time ya couldn't hack it and they had to bring me in to do the job. Very embarrassing."

A vein ticked in Sano's forehead and his fists were so tightly clenched they were white with the strain. He looked ready to kill someone. Yep, definitely not the time to poke fun at a guy more than twice his size, more than twice as strong.

"Yea, I bet it was so difficult murdering a weak little girl, Chou," Sano spat. "Bet it was real hard."

Chou swatted the air with his hand as though he was waving the words away from him, nonchalant, afraid the guilt of the accusation might taint him.

"Ah, ya know, work is work."

Yahiko could feel Sano practically vibrating with rage beside him. The power of the tall man's ki sizzled along his skin, setting the hair on his arms on end and tensing his already strained muscles.

"Work? That what you third raters call it?" Sano growled. "Begging for scraps, more like."

Chou's face contorted and he lurched forward towards the other man. Sano had found and sliced into some internal injury, a sore spot in Chou's arrogance.

"Yea… Well at least I don't copy other people's style, Roosterhead," he responded feebly.

"What's that supposed to mean, Broomtop?"

Sano took a step forward, shaking Yahiko's grip from his arm. He still had the presence of mind not to simply dump the rucksack on the floor though, instead gently placing it beside the younger man.

"What do ya think it means, ya idiot? Can't think of your own hairstyle so ya have to steal a better man's."

"Why you little…"

Both men surged forwards, barreling towards each other like malevolent express trains. Without warning an alarm squealed to life, blaring up and down the corridors. A sharp red light flashed overhead, bathing the room intermittently in crimson blood.

Just as fists were about to make contact with flesh a tooth jarring grate of noise resounded from above and they hardly had time to yank back their arms before two metal gates dropped in gleaming fury at either end of the corridor, clanging into place with sickening finality. Much swearing and wrenching of bars ensued.

"Get your asses back to the control room and turn that goddamn thing off," Chou howled, sending the guards scattering back down the corridor towards the main office.

There was no way it was going to take ten men to turn off one security alert, but it was equally clear that none of them wanted to stick around to take the brunt of Chou's wrath while he waited.

Yahiko wasn't sure whether to be happy the battle had been averted or terrified at being trapped in this cage of metal and brick. Sano was no help, scrabbling between the bars at the blond haired man, exchanging useless insults and flinging equally useless punches.

"Idiot Broomtop!"

"Stupid Roosterhead!"

Yahiko shook his head, looking around for a means of escape. It definitely didn't feel like he was the teenager in this set up. His eyes fell on the rucksack, pickaxe wedged in the top. He didn't like the dangerous idea forming in his mind, but there was nothing else to use in the minimalist chic of the corridor and once the security alert was lifted they stood about as much chance of survival as a pot of gel in Sano's possession. It had no doubt attracted the attention of those fighting the flames.

Carefully freeing the heavy pickaxe, he hefted it with all his might against the wall he hoped led outside. The contact jarred his arms and rattled his teeth. His furious muscles told him he'd used incredible force, but the tiny mark in the plaster teasingly begged to differ. This was going to take a while.

He looked up nervously but neither of the men had noticed his actions. The petty insults and shouting seemed to cover the racket. A good thing in a way, if Chou deduced his purpose he would set up an ambush on the other side of the wall, but then if Sano took over things would happen a lot more quickly. He had created the holes with irritating ease. It was a catch-22.

It took several minutes and a lot of precious energy to destroy the plaster and brick enough to fit one of the pipes securely inside. Sweat burned a stream down his back and cramps jabbed needles through his skin. Dragging a sleeve across his forehead, Yahiko realised his standard of conditioning wasn't as good as he'd thought. Kaoru would be so disappointed. The thought of his adopted sister slashed at his heart and sent a fizz of adrenaline through his exhausted system.

Gingerly unstrapping a pipe from its companions, he slid it inside the crude slot and drew the back up fuse from its hiding place, fingers trembling from the fear and exertion. He wouldn't be able to use the detonator he'd so wanted to try. Each one was linked with a row of bombs and blowing them all would be suicide in such a small space. Just his luck.

Hauling the rucksack and pickaxe as far across the room as possible, he sauntered over to the ever squabbling child-men and slipped Sano's lighter from his pocket. Sometimes his pick-pocketing past really was handy, no matter what other people thought. The blood light stopped flashing. The sound of shouting and hammering feet echoed through the air, reinforcements were on their way. Time was running out.

Yahiko skidded to the wall, lighter already flickering to flaming life. A split second of pure silence as though everyone knew and had halted in awe, even the argument behind him slowed to a stop.

"What the hell are you doin'?" Sano's voice cracked through the peace.

The fuse fizzled and hissed. Yahiko dived for the opposite end of the corridor, yanking Sano by his clothes until they were both pressed against the bars, their heads buried in their hands.

Thunder struck, debris soaring, crashing, beating at anything it could touch. A dark gash marred the cream wall. Nothing moved, nothing breathed for a moment and then Sano crawled free of the bricks and dust, coughing and carrying the young pickpocket on his back.

One arm hung at his side, swaying at impossible angles, cuts crisscrossed his flesh like a blueprint and a nasty bruise was already blooming along his cheekbone. A few more scars had been added to his collection and his face was not going to be a pretty picture in the morning. The pristine white of his clothes was a wreck of rips and dirt.

Yahiko lay limp against his body as he fought to his feet. Blood seeped steadily down the side of the boy's face where a shard of brick had managed to reach it and his body had faired no better than Sano's. His face was ashen either from blood loss or the white plaster, the tall man couldn't be sure. He looked so young. Only the ache of Sano's ribs as Yahiko's rising chest bumped him told the tall man that the boy was still alive.

"What a damn stupid idea, kid," Sano growled gruffly. "Clever, but damn stupid."

It was time to get the hell out of dodge.

Battousai stood perfectly still. A bird of prey alert, waiting, conserving energy. He would not go in search of Shishio. Why bother when there was no need. He had no doubt that the powerful man already knew of his presence. Shishio would come to him and he would bring his Kaoru.

The courtyard was large, all smooth mosaic tile and Roman colonnades. It would have been beautiful if it hadn't been some modern decorator's wet dream. Battousai's instincts told him it was a dangerous site for the battle to come. Buildings which were designed to be elegantly vaulted instead loomed from every side. Aoshi had cleared the rooftops of snipers, but it would not be difficult to replace them.

Nowhere was safe though. He was not on home ground, while his enemy had all the advantages of knowing the territory. To change location, especially to go inside the lion's den, would be tantamount to suicide. So he controlled what he could and stayed where he was.

He didn't have long to wait. The huge double doors to the main building slid soundlessly open and two nervous looking servants made their appearance. They carried heavy mahogany arm chairs like shields, placing them carefully with a perfect view at the top of the steps into the courtyard before scuttling rapidly back inside. The spectators' seats.

The doors remained open and moments later Shishio himself stepped out, Kaoru at his side. His bandaged fingers were tightly wrapped around the arm slipped through his, holding her in place. The urge to grab her, to tear her away from the tainting grip of her captor, was immense, but he held it back, reining in the possessive instincts. He would have her back soon enough and Shishio would beg for the death Battousai would dangle just out of his tormented reach.

Seeing her like this was unbearable, however. It was like that fierce little dancing spark that coiled through her had been pinched out. He could barely recognise her ki. Even in those moments of intense fear when she had lost herself to her solitude, she had still retained that distinctive heat he loved so much. What had the monster done to his Koneko? What wounds would he suffer for? Kaoru looked so pale and fragile in her wedding…

"Welcome to my home, Battousai." Shishio bowed his head regally in greeting, a small gloating smile twitching at his lips. "You are just in time for the celebrations."

He led Kaoru to one of the arm chairs, resting his hand on her shoulder as she sank to the seat. A shudder ran through her form and her eyes closed a moment to disguise the disgust obvious there.

"Allow me to introduce my wife to you." He squeezed hard enough to make her grit her teeth against a hiss. "But, of course, no introductions are really necessary. You already know each other."

Battousai's mind reeled, vision darkening for a split second in shock before welcome writhing fury took its place. He would not grant this man the easy escape of death.

"You will live to regret your actions, Makoto," he snarled, fingers playing across the hilt of his katana. "I will sever each muscle in your diseased body one by one. I will watch each time you crawl across the floor until you are no longer able to move and then I will leave you for the predators and the insects to devour."

"I believe our guest doesn't wish us well, my dear." Shishio laughed coldly, eyes bright with malicious enjoyment. "How disappointing."

Clutching the armrests in a bloodless grip, Kaoru desperately tried to convey her terror to her red haired assassin. One wrong move and the snipers would… She had to warn him, but he was falling for Shishio's distraction. He would die and it would be her fault.

"Kenshin, Get out! There are snipers!" She dived forwards, knowing full well she would not get far.

Shishio growled, twisting his hand into her hair and yanking her sharply back into the chair. Wedding ornaments jangled to the ground with the force. An involuntary sob was wrenched from her throat and she bit her lip to hold back any more sound. She would give him neither the satisfaction nor the help in baiting Battousai.

"What a pity my wife has seen fit to ruin my surprise," Shishio hissed, tugging on her hair cruelly and soothing his anger with the pleasure of watching Battousai tense at the pain it caused. "No matter, they were only a precaution anyway. I will have no need of their aid to kill you. I will, however, have no more interruptions from you, Mrs. Makoto. Yumi, Soujiro."

The beautiful black haired woman swept out of the door, her head held at an angle that said she believed herself a very important person and the look she gave Kaoru saying she should be even more important. She was closely followed by the young swordsman, the ever present plastic grin plastered across his face. Shishio took Yumi's hand, pressing a kiss to the back before helping her to the other arm chair, Soujiro calmly taking up a position between the two ladies.

"Keep an eye on my blushing bride, won't you?" Shishio drawled, flashing what past for a smile through his bandages at Yumi. "As we know she has a tendency to get a little above herself."

Yumi gazed up at him with soft eyes and nodded.

"Of course, Shishio-sama," she purred, closing her eyes in pleasure as he caressed her cheek gently.

A polite cough from the doorway drew everyone's attention to a man in a sharp tailored beige suit. His thin, pointed face was emphasised by the dark circles under his eyes. They should have looked like tiredness but instead it just drew attention the petty maliciousness of his gaze.

"Yes, Hoji?" Shishio bowed graciously to Battousai. "If you'll excuse me a moment."

Strolling calmly over, he nonchalantly turned his back on the red haired assassin to listen to what Hoji had to report. It was a flagrant display of arrogance on the part of the bandaged man, a statement of absolute confidence in his ability to defeat the Battousai and an insult that set him bristling with rage.

Kaoru tried desperately to catch her lover's attention, first with her eyes and then with slight movements of the hands, but he was entirely focused on his opponent. Had he not heard her? Did he not realise that twenty or more highly trained gunmen had their weapons aimed at him at this moment? Even with his god-like speed he would not be able to avoid all of them. Her chest constricted and she plunged even further into the despair that was gnawing at her gut. She could not lose another loved one.

In her anxiety, her hand jerked a little too strongly, catching the wrong person's eye. Yumi had been waiting for any excuse to take her revenge on Kaoru, the woman who had stolen the honour of becoming Shishio's bride even if it was only for a short time. Howling gleefully, she whipped a short blade from her kimono sleeve to slash at the other woman's face.

Kaoru's pupils dilated sharply, taking in the glinting stiletto millimetres from her left eye. Her reflexes had kicked in, but it would have been seconds too late. In the time it had taken her to raise her hand, Battousai had covered the distance across the courtyard and held Yumi's wrist in his clenched fist. His gold irises flashed catlike and threatening.

"Harm her even in the tiniest way and I will teach you a new meaning to the word pain," he hissed low against her ear, squeezing her wrist until the knife dropped from her grip.

Soujiro slid forward, katana clicking free of its sheath more in threat than intention, and Battousai danced backwards out of reach, eyes still trained on Yumi's shocked face. Shishio had looked up from his conversation, but seeing no real cause for concern, he merely shook his head in a what-can-you-do-with-these-women sort of way and went back to his talk.

Kaoru sat frozen in her elegantly embroidered chair. Death had eyed her up and been thrust back once again, but this time it had been so close she'd felt the brush of greedy rictus fingers against her skin. Trapped air gusted from her lungs as her hands fluttered and dropped to her sides. She couldn't seem to absorb enough oxygen from her breaths.

Out of the corner of her eye, Kaoru could see Soujiro stepping back into his previous position. Her head snapped round to stare at him. She could have sworn she caught sight of an expression other than the usual bland grin on the young man's face. If the miracle had occurred, it passed in a move faster than the speed of light. Soujiro merely blinked lifeless eyes down at her before transferring them back to Battousai.

"Why did you do that?" He murmured, cocking his head to the side like some grotesquely large bird.

The red haired assassin frowned in confusion.

"Why did I do what?"

"Why did you protect her? If she cannot save herself then she does not deserve to live."

Battousai snorted in disgust, his face contorting as though he'd just discovered the taste of loathing.

"I protect those I love," he answered simply, eyes catching and holding Kaoru's. "What is the use of strength if not to defend what I hold dear, to defend those who cannot defend themselves? Power for power's sake is nothing more than rotting waste, an emptiness you can never keep."

There was a silence of long moments. Soujiro absently raised a hand to his forehead, rubbing fingertips roughly against his temple as though it ached.

"I would die for her!" It was like it burst forth involuntarily from deep within Battousai's chest. "I would die for her and I would thank Kami for the chance."

Again a flash of emotion coursed across the young swordsman's face, a mingling of perplexity and pain. So much pain.

"The strong survive, the weak must die," he mumbled to himself, his bangs falling forward to cover his expression. "T…The strong survive, the weak _must_ die."

Eyes suddenly alight with insanity and sharp with anger flared from beneath his hair.

"Why didn't you protect me?" He howled. "Where were you when I was weak, when I couldn't defend myself, when they beat me until I bled over and over…?"

The words choked off into a sob and it was like all the feelings of hurt, of suffering, burst their dam, the meaningless brutality and trauma his child's mind could never comprehend. A scream was rent from his chest as his mind struggled to cope with these new sensations and failed.

"Enough!" Shishio turned to take in the scene, Soujiro doubled over in agony and the other's standing dumbfounded. "Yumi, remove him."

His black kimono sleeve hissed through the air with the force of the movement as he flicked his hand towards the door. During the distraction, Hoji had disappeared.

"Shishio-sama, I…" Yumi pleaded, hands reaching towards him.

"Get rid of him," he roared.

She silently got to her feet and wrapped her arms around Soujiro in an almost motherly gesture. Swathed in her kimono like some brightly coloured camouflage, he looked very small and so young. Tugging him gently, she led him back towards the door. Mumbled words, both hers and his, soothing and agonized, drifted on the breeze and then they were gone.

"Purile weakness," Shishio snapped. "Disgusting. I thought him better than that."

Then it was as though he shook it off, putting Soujiro aside and labeling him defective.

"Ah well, never mind, better to find out now, don't you think?"

Smiling benignly, he came to stand beside Kaoru.

"My katana please…wife."

Kaoru gritted her teeth and glared up at him. There was no way she was going to hand him the means of harming her Battousai. Even as his hand seized her own, yanking her bodily from the seat, she refused to move a step further than he dragged her. With each passing second Shishio's eyes slitted further, warping his already ruined face into a thing of nightmares. His grip increased until small dancing spots blurred her vision.

"Koneko," Battousai said with lethal calm. "Bring the man his weapon so I can finish this."

The hold immediately loosened, Shishio's attention drawn back to his opponent as though for a second he'd forgotten he was there. Kaoru didn't look up from the ground, watching each step her feet took as they played peek-a-boo with her from beneath her kimono. With the expert knowledge of a fighter, she was aware that several of her fingers were broken.

A trembling servant stood in the doorway, head bowed almost in mimicry of her own position and arms held stiffly out before him presenting her with the beautiful katana. She grasped the sheath with her good hand and the second her fingers closed around it the servant was gone. There would be no one to witness this danse macabre but her.

"Any time today, my dear," Shishio drawled from behind her.

Kaoru gripped the katana so tightly her fingers whitened with the force, tucking her other hand securely in her kimono sleeve out of harms way. She walked deliberately slowly back towards the sadistic, bandaged monster she was now supposed to call husband, thrusting the weapon out to him, eyes turned away to hide the loathing in her gaze.

Shishio sneered down at her, taking the katana and purposely moving too swiftly for her to dodge as he turned and caught the sheath against her other arm. A whimper of pain escaped her lips before she could clamp them shut and he chuckled cruelly.

"Any time today," Battousai rumbled, eyes ablaze with the rage he kept bottled within.

Shishio raised an eyebrow, gliding down the steps to the marble courtyard.

"Patience, Battousai, your end will come soon enough."

Battousai snorted a derisive response and slid fluidly into his battle stance. This man's life would end now for the pain he had caused his Koneko. Cold, amber eyes looked out from beneath fiery bangs as he raised a hand and beckoned.

"Show me."

Shishio came at him, katana hissing through the air like an angry snake, and he dodged lithely out of reach. For a split second he wondered at the ease with which he had evaded the other man's attack. He was not the only one with a reputation. Shishio was most known for two things, his brutality and his skill with a sword. Then, just as the katana whipped through the air, breezing inches from his body, blue-white flame burst to life along the length of the blade, singeing a trail across the area the katana hadn't reached.

The force of the blow sent Battousai skidding back across the smooth marble, his shirt sizzling against burnt flesh. Coming to one knee, he rapidly made to straighten up before doubling over, the shock of the blow fading to searing pain. How had Shishio done that? How had he managed to make flame from nothing?

Seeing his enemy so easily felled, a shriek of demented laughter echoed from the bandaged man.

"Is this all you have for me, Battousai? Surely the rumours cannot be so wildly exaggerated," he sneered, nonchalantly leaning on his katana.

Snarling low in his throat, Battousai forced himself to his feet and peeled the ruined shirt away from his charred chest, ignoring the skin that was torn away with it. His eyes roamed over the katana, but it was not until the other man moved that he caught the glint of light against the blade, revealing the vicious serrated edge.

"Very clever, Makoto," Battousai murmured. "You use the friction of your blade against the floor to create a spark, am I right?"

Shishio smirked, waving his weapon to show its jagged edge to best effect.

"Well done, Battousai. Not as dumb as you look, but that's only half…"

"I'm assuming there is some sort of grease along the grooves," Battousai interrupted. "You wouldn't smear it on on purpose though. No, that would be too simple and nowhere near sick-minded enough."

"Human fat," Shishio put in. He sounded proud, almost boastful. "Each time I make a new cut I take more than a life, Battousai, that is the meaning of true power. Even from the death of the worthless I draw strength."

There was a pause, a silence that lengthened like the shadows as the sun moves across the sky. This man was insane. If they hadn't already realised it, they did now.

"And now you will join them."

Even as the words fell from his lips, Shishio was moving, katana catching against the ground before slicing through the air.

It was time for the song to end. He'd had enough of dancing. Battousai slid into position, coiling like a stalking cat, and it was as though the very air around him contracted with the suspense. Then with almost god-like speed, he glided across the tiles as if his chest were not throbbing with the tiniest movement and his feet were not touching the floor. Within a split second he stood before his enemy, sword running through the centre of his chest…but he wasn't there. Shishio had dodged Battousai's finishing blow, something that had never happened before.

"You believe me stupid enough not to have prepared for you, Battousai," Shishio taunted, warm breath tickling his ear. "This is your most infamous technique. Allow me to give you a little advice to even the battlefield, never use the same move twice."

Pain flared white hot before Battousai's eyes as the bandaged man's teeth sank deep into his shoulder, rending and tearing the flesh like an animal worrying a piece of meat. He distantly registered Kaoru's scream of horror and disgust, saw her move forward out of the corner of his eye as he dropped to his knees, feeling the blood trickle from between his fingers as he held his hand over the wound.

"NO!" he roared, turning just far enough to look at her. "Do not interfere."

She forced herself to a halt, concentrating on the throb of her steadily swelling fingers to avoid the reality of what she could see. This was too much, too much pain for her to cope with. Her mind skittered over the idea that her Battousai might lose, might fall to the blade and tricks of this monster. She couldn't handle this.

She watched him wrench himself to his feet, swaying a little with the loss of the blood seeping from his wound. With the critical eye of a fighter, she observed the way he slowed as the battle wore on, feet occasionally missing a step in the fatal dance of glinting metal and clashing swords. Her only hope was that the rumours she had heard before she went into hiding were true, that he was as good as was said and that these injuries would only slow him to the level of the ordinary incredibly skilled mortal.

She was right. It wasn't long before Shishio too had numerous red spreading stains across his clothes, the clear evidence of Battousai's immense abilities. Both men hissed breaths through aching chests, barely flinching from deep open gashes, and the silent music of their battle, the sound only those enthralled in war could hear, played on. They never ceased to move, there was never a moment where either man slowed to think or strategise, it was pure skill and pure reflex.

Then, without warning, as Battousai moved in for his latest attack, Shishio paused. He did not raise a defense or dodge the oncoming blow, he merely stood perfectly still. The red haired assassin faltered for a millisecond, confused, and it was only this that saved his life. Shishio drew his katana across his gauntlet in a lightning fast movement and a sound like roaring thunder followed as the gunpowder laced glove released an explosion, sending both men spiraling backwards. Battousai took the brunt of the attack as the power was flung mostly forwards, but he was far enough away for it not to burn him further, the force merely throwing him backwards into one of the ornate colonnades, destroying the stone to reveal its false metal core.

Battousai lay still, body pulsing with the power of the collision and a concussion causing his eyes to blur. Shishio, who had managed to stay on his feet, took advantage of his opponent's weakness. A shriek that sounded almost like a cackle echoed around the courtyard as he ran towards his fallen enemy, katana catching against the ground and crackling to flaming life as he moved. Slashing through the air, his katana connected only with the now jagged stone of the pillar. Using a technique almost identical to Shishio's earlier evasion only faster, Battousai had moved with such speed that the other man's eyes had not even had time to notice his departure.

"You should never use the same move twice, Makoto," Battousai whispered mockingly in his ear.

Shishio turned sharply, trying to return to the defensive before the red head could attack but, as he did so, Battousai brought the handle of his katana down on the crook of the bandaged man's elbow, forcing his arm to bend and bring his own katana into contact with his other upraised hand.

The blast was even greater than the previous explosion, the flame lit from the fat of his human victims his ultimate demise. Shishio sailed backwards into the same colonnade Battousai had so recently laid waste. A bar of the metal that made up the heart of the fake Roman structure jutted dangerously from the centre and pierced his chest, fraying the bandages.

For a moment, Shishio stared down at himself, watching as a light trickle of blood escaped the blocked wound. A gurgling caught in his throat and he coughed gently, an identical trickle marring the pristine white of the wrappings around his mouth. Looking up into the amber eyes of his opponent, a smile played at his lips. The better man had won and the weaker had been extinguished, his philosophy was intact. Somehow at peace, he died.

Kaoru stood frozen at the top of the steps. It was over, her nightmare was over. She should be happy or at the very least relieved, yet all she could think about was the unnaturally sagging body held to the wall only by the metal bar protruding from his chest. Nausea threatened and she stumbled a little, reeling away from the sight branded on her retinas.

Her eyes fell on the figure standing in the doorway, fragile and pale as a china doll. Yumi had lost some of her immaculate poise. Her hair, always so perfectly pinned up, was loose and wild, her clothes rumpled and her manicured fingers grasped the doorframe in a claw-like grip as though if she were to let go she would crumple to the floor.

It began as a low whine like the sound of a far off airplane, building until it filled the whole courtyard. A howling, unbearable torrent of agony and grief that seemed to pour from Yumi's very soul. She moved so quickly Kaoru barely had time to blink. Cradling Shishio's lolling head, she kissed the unresponsive lips over and over heedless of the blood that stained her own a darker shade of red.

Kaoru had never imagined that this man could evoke such emotion in another human being. Though Yumi had shown every bit of her devotion to him, she had never grasped the extent to which his dark haired mistress loved him. In fact, she had never thought either of them capable of love. Yet, suddenly she realised that these two monsters, united in their twisted souls and cruelty, were made for each other.

In a change so fast it could have induced whiplash, Yumi's pain turned from grief to fury. All sanity left her eyes, leaving behind only feral loss and wild anguish. Whirling on Battousai, she ran at him, stiletto drawn from her sleeve once more. Kaoru had not even noticed the other woman retrieve it after her previous attempt on her life. She felt no fear, however, Yumi stood about as much chance of harming the red haired assassin as she did of escaping his wrath.

Battousai easily caught her wrist as she made to thrust the thin blade down into his neck, amber eyes glaring darkly at her. Despite her certainty, Kaoru still sighed in relief, letting out the breath that had been trapped in her throat. She watched as Yumi struggled violently against his grip before he knocked her out with one sharp blow to the head.

Laying the dark haired woman on the ground with more gentleness than she deserved, Battousai brought those bright orbs up to look at his Kaoru. She felt her insides somersault at the volumes of relief and joy they spoke. She was safe, he was here and alive and everything was going to be all right. Rising with a lithe grace that belied the pain he must be suffering, he strode towards her, the intensity of his gaze making her pulse race.

She started forward on trembling legs, the knowledge that it was finally over allowing her body to release the tension it had held for so long. Just as she took that first tentative step, a flash out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. Looking up, she froze for what felt like hours, time slowing as though it was wading through water. Then, as if it were trying to catch up with itself, everything happened very quickly. Bursting into a run, air trapped in her lungs, unable to escape or make a sound, she flew towards her Battousai.

The bullet caught her in the chest, throwing her back against him and knocking them both to the floor. Scrambling out from beneath her body, he tried to see where the gunman was, but Hoji had already disappeared into the fading dusk.

Battousai dropped to his knees beside the crumpled body of his beautiful Koneko. Kaoru lay perfectly still, staring up at the cold, grey sky. Roaring his torment, he pressed his hands over the wound, trying to hold the blood inside her body, fear and anguish tearing at his gut, but it was no use, it slowly trickled from between his fingers to coat the marble tiles in dark red life. The Snow began to fall as though to hide the dirty wreckage of battle. White on bloodshed.

**Author's note:** So am I going to go back on my promise and kill off one of my characters? *wiggles my eyebrows evilly* Review, my darlings, and maybe the joy of your love will induce me to update before 2012 =P


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note****: **Hello, dear readers! Long time no see! How's the family? [Insert one of my long, rambling apologies here]. However, here's some good news to make it up to you. Turns out I lied in my author's note for the previous chapter! This is not the last one! Basically, I started writing and, before I knew it, it was 8000+ words and still going full steam! So, voila, I had to split it up! Anyway, enjoy the penultimate chapter, my lovelies and let me know what you think!

**Chapter Fourteen**

"Fuck off, Sano!"

He grinned ruefully, patting Yahiko on the shoulder as the boy rolled away from him and pulled the duvet over his head. He couldn't blame the poor kid. He had to wake him every hour and he knew for a fact Yahiko hadn't been sleeping well. Kaoru still hadn't come out of her coma and if it wasn't for his concussion and Megumi's insistance, the boy would have joined Kenshin camped out at her bedside.

The grumbling followed him out of the room and he chuckled softly, shaking his head. It wasn't like he was getting a lot of shut eye either. Running a hand across his face and up through his hair, he slumped down onto the sofa, wincing as it jarred his recently dislocated arm. Letting his head drop back against the cushions, he sighed as hands slid lightly down over his shoulders from behind, careful not to put too much pressure on his injury. He shivered as breath whispered against his ear.

"You know we could at least take it in turns to check on the kid," Megumi purred, nibbling at his lobe.

He tugged on her hand, turning his head to kiss her, but she slipped away, laughing.

"Why are you punishing yourself?"

Trailing her fingers down his arm, she slid round to sit in his lap.

"I'm not," he mumbled, distracting them both as he rubbed his hand down around her waist, accidentally brushing the curve of her breast as he did so. "Maybe I like being awake."

He waggled his eyebrows at her and she rolled her eyes, stifling a giggle as he tried to squeeze her ass, the one armed nature of the attack making it awkward. He pouted up at her, the sweet look ruined by the wicked twinkle in his gaze.

"Hey, what kind of doctor are you, laughing at the injured?" He sulked. "You should be healing me."

He pulled her closer and began kissing a path from the enticing shadow of her cleavage at the neckline of her nightdress, up her neck to her cheek. Megumi tilted her head, allowing him better access to the sensitive skin behind her ear.

"And how would you suggest I do that?" She whispered, her breath catching as his teeth grazed her.

"Kiss it better?"

He growled in frustration, his hand fumbling against her back, tugging at the thin fabric keeping him from her bare flesh. Smirking, she helped him. Straddling his lap, her eyes fluttered closed for a second as he sighed his approval, hand sliding up her thigh to push the nightdress aside. The rough calluses of his fingers caught against her skin in a way that had her wriggling against him, a jolt of electricity heating her blood as the coarse fabric of his trousers brushed against her. He tightened his grip, pressing her closer as he lifted his hips, ever so slightly increasing the pressure.

"I don't think that's a recognised medical cure," she murmured breathlessly inches from his lips.

Letting her tongue flick the corner of his mouth, she watched his eyes darken and his grin drop away, replaced by something much more intense.

"I'm willing to give it a try if you are, Kitsune."

She didn't reply. Instead, pushing gently at his shoulder, she urged him to lie back and slowly began undoing the tiny white buttons down the front of her nightdress. The ones that drove him crazy. He watched her for a minute, enjoying the sweet torture of slowly revealed flesh, the way her eyes shuttered as her fingers stroked lightly over the dip between her breasts. He could almost feel his own hands cupping, caressing. He wanted the sensation of silken skin beneath his touch and the way she made that little noise when he did it just right.

"No touching," she commanded huskily, twining her fingers with those that had lifted unconsciously to reach for her. "Let the doctor do her work."

Bending forwards, she rolled her hips against him, relishing the way his head tilted back and his breath caught. She forced his hand above his head, hair falling around their faces to tickle him as she skimmed her lips down his jawline, his exposed throat, pausing to suck at his collarbone and then lower. Nibbling and kissing each part she found, she slowly worked her way down his bare chest. It was moments like these she loved his habit of sleeping only in a pair of loose jogging bottoms.

Her caresses grew in fervour as she found the fading bruises and the ridges of scars, testament to how close she had come to losing him. Not all were from the latest battle. Her tongue circled his navel, scraping it delicately with her teeth and enjoying the way his stomach muscles contracted, body tensing. She let her hand stray lower to trace the line of his trousers and then slip inside. He groaned loudly.

"Maybe I should almost die more often," he chuckled hoarsely, straining up just a little, desperate for her touch.

For just a second, there was silence. Then she stiffened abruptly, snatching her hands away as though his body had burned her. Baffled, he pushed himself up just in time for her to smack him hard across the face.

"Hey!" He caught her hand as she made to hit him again. "Hey, what's up? What's the matter?"

She just glared at him and it took him a moment until his brain caught up with his mouth.

"Aw, c'mon, Kitsune, I was joking," he groaned.

"Forgive me if I don't find the idea of you dying funny," she snarled, starting to climb off him.

He tightened his grip and yanked her down against his chest, ignoring the protest of his healing body. She struggled, scratching at his hands. He held on.

"It's not funny. I know it's not funny, Megumi," he growled, fighting to keep his grip on her. "But did you maybe think for a minute that this is how I deal with it? Maybe I laugh at it 'cause if I don't…"

He trailed off, loosening his grasp, but by then she'd stopped trying to escape.

"That kid… We both nearly died back there, Megumi. If it weren't for him we'd be dead or damn near it. He saved my ass, that young kid saved my ass. So yea, maybe I joke, maybe I'm gonna punish myself a bit, maybe I'm gonna wake up every hour to make sure that he sticks around, but maybe I damn well deserve it."

Megumi pushed away and looked down at him for long, silent moments, an indecipherable expression on her face. Then she leaned forward, cupped his face in her hands and kissed him. It wasn't lustful or passionate, a simple press of lips, before she took his hand and led him back to their bedroom.

For the millionth time in as many weeks Kaoru found herself coming to with no clue where she was or who she was with. This had to be causing permanent damage. Panic caught and held in her chest, a sudden pain coiling rapidly around the spot.

Gasping for air, she forced her mind from the deep, numbing confines of whatever drug had been pumped into her system. It was like punching her way through a thick concrete wall but she was determined she was not going to let this happen to her again. Pausing a moment in her efforts, she tried to remember the events before her blackout and for long seconds all she could piece together was a blur of orange and white. Then as though the wall had suddenly collapsed on top of her, crushing the breath from her lungs, time sped up, playing through all that had happened, Soujiro's break down, Shishio's death, the gun aimed at Battousai's back.

"Kaoru-dono, please calm down. Everything is all right."

Battousai's voice slid through the haze and she pried her eyes open only to stare in shock, breath stuttering out between suddenly numb lips. A worried pale purple gaze caught her own. No, this was not Battousai, this was the old Kenshin. Had it all been a dream then? Was this just some hideous nightmare she was waking up from? If so then she had a sick, sick mind and needed some serious psychiatric attention.

Closing her eyes against the glare of bright white lights, she took in her surroundings. The room smelled of acrid chemicals and disinfectant, the sheets beneath her skin were starched and a little rough to her touch and she could sense the despair and joy of a thousand souls. A hospital.

Kenshin seemed to think she'd fallen back into unconsciousness, gently rearranging the sheets she'd rumpled in her struggle to wakefulness before sitting back in a seat pulled close to her bed. Normally, he would have been better at reading her ki but even she could feel the way the drugs had addled her signature.

She took the rare opportunity of this unguarded moment to observe him through half slit eyes, cataloguing every nuance of his body language. He looked tense, the lines of his shoulders rigid and, if the steadily building throb of pain in her chest hadn't been bad enough, she could now almost feel the knots of stress down his back. His hair, though clean, was unkempt, flyaway strands falling loose at all angles from the low ponytail she hadn't seen for so long. The worst came, however, when her gaze slid up to his face. The remnants of near healed wounds marred his pale skin, taut in a way which made him look almost gaunt, malnourished, and shaggy bangs half hid eyes ringed with bruise dark circles as though he hadn't slept in days.

With a thrill, she realised that those eyes were trained on her face. Their gazes held for long moments. There was a time when staring into those violet orbs had left her heart beating as though she were about to have a coronary and yet now they were barely familiar, empty somehow, a disguise. She knew the deeply passionate, dangerous man that lay beneath this façade and she couldn't help feeling the strangest sting of disappointment at the thought that he was once again held back, possibly never to return.

Looking hurriedly away, she gingerly adjusted her position, trying to ignore the sensation that something about being with him now wasn't quite right. Kenshin immediately shot forwards in his seat to support her and for some reason this anxiety irked her.

'You look like crap,' she grouched, swatting his hands away.

Before Kenshin could do more than smile wanly, a bark of laughter cracked through the room like a bullet. Jumping a little, Kaoru's hand shot up to press against her chest, trying to hide the wince of pain her movement had caused behind a surprised beam of pleasure as she caught sight of her godparents standing in the doorway.

Tokio swept in in such a bustle of happy chatter and motherly concern that Kaoru didn't notice at first how the two men reacted to each other. Kenshin stood perfectly still by her bedside, stance studiedly casual but his body carefully angled to block the other man's access to her. The response to him wasn't much friendlier.

"Thanks for coming, Uncle Saitou," Kaoru called to the man leaning over-nonchalantly in the doorway.

He grunted something incomprehensible and she turned back to Tokio to hide the smile spreading across her face. Her father's best friend had always acted both about twenty years older than he actually was and like the grumpiest old man she could ever have imagined. His wife on the other hand was the polar opposite. Lively, loving and just plain amicable, Kaoru had never met a single person who hadn't adored Tokio within five minutes of meeting her. Then again, she supposed that was how she must have caught Saitou. It was that or the steel backbone she hid beneath her sweet exterior. With one glance, she could make you feel like the greatest person alive or the lowest, dirtiest piece of scum she had ever come across.

"Saitou, come and say hello to your goddaughter," Tokio chided, arranging the homemade snacks she'd brought for Kaoru on the tray table across her bed.

When Saitou didn't move, crossing his arms over his chest and keeping his eyes trained on Kenshin, she spun round, hands on hips and the look she gave him promised all kinds of hell if he didn't obey.

"Hajime Saitou!"

To Kaoru's infinite amusement, Saitou pushed away from the door and started into the room. He paused part way across the floor though, back going poker straight and eyes flaring with anger. Following his gaze, she just caught the taunting smirk as it faded to a bland smile on Kenshin's face. Her heart skipped a beat. Apparently she wasn't the only one amused.

Now, however, they had a problem. Saitou was not going to move as long as Kenshin stayed where he was, his pride bruised by the unspoken insinuation that he was under his wife's thumb, and Kenshin was not about to go anywhere. They were at a stalemate and much as she longed to see that expression again, that beautiful arrogance and power she had grown to love, Kaoru had to do something.

"Kenshin, I'm thirsty," she croaked, her voice deliberately rough.

His attention was immediately diverted to her, though she knew at the slightest movement from Saitou he would be ready. He turned to reach for the pitcher of iced water on the windowsill but she caught his sleeve.

"Can I have some juice?"

He looked at her and she could have sworn she saw a flicker of gold ring the violet of his eyes before the mild, concerned veneer fell back into place. He knew perfectly well what she was doing.

"Please," she pleaded, adding a tremble to her words.

He didn't move, body staying in that faintly stooped position as though he were humbling himself.

"Water gives better hydration, Kaoru-dono. Sessha thinks it would be best if you drink that."

Annoyance sizzled through her. This act was getting old. She wasn't stupid. She had seen beneath the mask and this meek servant crap wasn't going to work anymore.

"I want juice, Kenshin," she gritted out between clenched teeth. "Now."

"Kaoru-dono, Sessha really thinks…"

"Himura Kenshin!"

His bangs fell across his eyes and he shifted uncomfortably. Part of the act, she knew, but still better. Her hands itched for something to hit him with but she restrained herself, infusing all her anger into her eyes.

"Sessha will be right back."

He shuffled away, shoulder brushing Saitou's ever so lightly as he past. The other man followed him with his gaze until the door was closed and the sound of Kenshin's footsteps faded down the hall. Then he relaxed, coming to sit in the chair Kenshin had previously vacated. Tokio smiled, patting Kaoru's hand approvingly before moving to fluff her pillows.

"You know, when the Itachi came and told me her best friend was being held hostage by the Battousai, It never crossed my mind it would be you,' Saitou said, leaning back in his seat and tapping a cigarette from the packet he drew out of his pocket. "Clearly I haven't been keeping enough of an eye on you if you've fallen in with that lot, Kamiya."

Kaoru frowned. Saitou insisted, despite her practically begging him not to, on calling her by her surname just as he'd done with her father. She wasn't sure what it was about it but it always made her uncomfortable. If she was playing shrink, she would probably have guessed it was because she felt as though by taking her father's nickname she was taking his place.

"You know you're not allowed to smoke in a hospital, right?"

Saitou raised an eyebrow that told her exactly what he thought of that rule, but the cigarettes retreated back into their hiding place. She doubted it had anything to do with hospital regulations, however, and a lot more with the look Tokio shot him as she placed fresh flowers in the vase on Kaoru's bedside table.

"Who's Itachi?" Kaoru asked, settling back more comfortably against her newly plumped pillows.

The pain in her chest had somewhat receded but a dull thrum still radiated from a spot just above her heart, echoing its throb. The only good thing about the shock that stopped it beating was the fact that the ache stopped with it.

"I don't know her name." Saitou waved a hand dismissively. "Shinomori's woman, the one that won't shut up."

Misao. Kaoru gasped. Images of her limp body on the sofa in Shishio's house rose to the surface. How could she have forgotten Misao? Grief rose up in a tide, engulfed her, crushed the oxygen from her lungs until she choked. Her friend had lost her life because of Shishio, had been killed because of her, to make her suffer, and she couldn't even be bothered to remember, to mourn her loss.

Anguish and guilt mingled and twisted her insides, a pain like nothing she had ever felt before. It wrenched at her gut, clawed at her heart. Dimly, she felt Tokio holding her, heard the heart monitor going into overdrive and the fury as Kenshin and a nurse barreled into the room, demanding to know what had happened. She didn't care.

Misao paused in her sit up, peering at the closed bedroom door. She could have sworn she heard a noise outside, but when a minute past without a recurrence she returned to what she had been doing.

Each steady roll up to sitting was agony, her body begging her to stop. Yet, at the same time each slice of pain across her chest only reminded her of her failure, taunting her, forcing her to continue. It mocked her with her weakness. She hadn't saved Kaoru, she hadn't proved herself to Aoshi-sama, but so much worse than that she'd had to be rescued. Again. Aoshi had had to come and save her. Despite his own injuries, he'd been obliged to infiltrate a compound, fight off dozens of enemies to get her out.

Clenching her fists, she relished the sweat that slid down between her shoulder blades and she let herself pretend that that was what was trickling down her cheeks too. She was so angry with herself. How could she be so weak? So useless? Her Aoshi-sama was never going to love her like this. Heck, even she was disgusted with herself. She was only on her fifth sit up and already her breath hitched, her body shook with the exertion and pain. Pathetic.

"What are you doing?"

Aoshi stood in the doorway, watching her with blank eyes. She hadn't even heard the door. His voice was as carefully flat as ever. Still, there was something in it, perhaps the tiniest inflection that told her he was not happy, in fact, he was furious.

Lying back, she tried to control her breathing and hide the way her muscles trembled. When that failed, she widened her eyes and smiled weakly up at him.

"Would you believe I fell out of bed?" She asked hopefully.

She watched his eyebrows rise into his hairline and sighed. No, she supposed he wouldn't. Rolling over, she winced as she made to get to her feet, but before she was so much as on her knees Aoshi had swept her up into his arms, cradling her against him as he lowered her back to the bed. She closed her eyes, inhaling the crisp, clean scent of him. She was so pathetic.

Once she was safely back on the mattress, she expected him to release her and step away as he always did. Instead, she felt the bed dip as he sat beside her, her body still resting against his own. Eyes shooting open, she craned her neck to look up at him. He didn't seem to notice though, too focused on rearranging the pillows to best support her before he settled her back against them. Silly her, of course it wasn't because he wanted to hold her.

"Stop it," she said, her tone resigned.

When he ignored her, quietly adjusting the covers, she felt something livid stir to life inside her. She couldn't deal with this anymore. It wasn't fair to do these sweet little things, leaving her clinging to this horrible half-hope.

"Stop it!" She screamed, slapping his hands away. "Stop treating me like a child. I am not a baby and I'm not weak. Well, I am but I'm going to get better, you wait, I'm going to get strong and you're going to be proud of me and someday I'm going to kick your ass so hard…"

She trailed off, flushing a deep pink with the force of her outburst. It was the most colour she'd had in weeks. Even during the illicit training sessions she'd pushed herself through her skin had remained pale, only a more prominent pallor coming to her cheeks as the blood flowed to the muscle and still healing wounds.

"I do not think you are weak, Misao," Aoshi intoned and she could have sworn his lips twitched with a smile. "And I have every expectation of you becoming strong enough to spar with me…Although perhaps 'kicking my ass' might be a little much."

She scowled, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I don't know about that old man."

To her surprise Aoshi suddenly leaned forwards until their faces were mere inches apart, her folded arms trapped between their bodies.

"Perhaps, Misao, if I am no longer to think of you as a child, I might ask you to stop thinking of me as an old man. I am not so old, you know."

Her eyes widened and in the shock of the moment she blurted the first thing that came into her head, an occurrence which was not really that uncommon.

"I don't think of you as old. I…"

She bit her lip to hold back the rest of her words, stomach flip flopping as his gaze dropped to her mouth. When his eyes returned to her face, his expression was still as emotionless as ever, but his pupils had dilated until the ice blue was fading into the black. He reached out to catch a stray strand of hair that had fallen across her face.

"What do you think of me, Misao?" He murmured, watching her blush as his fingers skimmed her cheek.

"I…I…"

For once in her life Misao was lost for words. Was he asking what she thought he was asking? She couldn't be sure and she didn't want to say it if he meant something else. The humiliation would end her. When she didn't say anymore, Aoshi took control.

"Let me tell you what I think of you, Misao. I think you're loyal. I think you're strong in way you don't even know about. I think that any man lucky enough to be chosen by you would have to spend his entire life working to deserve it and I think that when I thought I'd lost you, when I saw you lying in that place, my world fell apart. I will not let you go again."

With those words he cupped her face, tilting it up to meet his kiss. It was light, a brush of lips, testing her response. When she didn't move, he began to pull away, his mask settling more securely over his features as he looked at her. Misao had her eyes closed, head still tipped back. A soft noise of distress slipped from her as he withdrew, leaning forwards to follow his movement.

It was a good thing she wasn't looking at him in that moment. The pure passion in his gaze would have overwhelmed her. Aoshi had never showed such emotion. It was probably amazing his features could still express it. The hunger and desire that flickered over his face was almost feral in its delight.

Catching her face between his hands, Aoshi kissed her again. This time there was no hesitation or tentative touch. He traced her bottom lip with his tongue, nibbling it lightly, reveling in the sweet sounds it elicited from her. To his surprise, she responded eagerly, lifting one hand to tangle in his hair and the other bunching in his coat, tugging him closer as she timidly opened her mouth and brushed her tongue against his own.

The feeling it set off inside them both was shocking. Their skin electrified wherever they touched, sending jolts spiraling through their bodies with each tiny brush of contact. Aoshi but back a groan as Misao excitedly tugged a little on his hair, the pleasure pain driving his senses wild. Gently leaning her back against the pillows, he let one hand stroke down from her cheek to caress her neck and then further, sliding to the curve of her breast and it was like she was on fire in so many places she couldn't even hope to put them all out. Instinctively, she arched against him, wanting more of his touch, but the movement jarred and stretched the injury she had already worsened with her impromptu exercise session. Crying out, she wrenched away from him, doubling over to hold her stomach.

"Misao?"

His voice was concerned, worried he might have done something to overexert her, but even through her sudden pain she could hear the slight crack in his voice, breathless. It made heat coil in the pit of her stomach to know that it was her who had broken his incredible control.

Gently pulling her hands away from her middle, Aoshi saw flecks of blood through the bandages wrapped around it. A crease appeared between his eyes as he looked up at her.

"You've ripped your stitches. Again. I'll get Hannya."

Without another word, he got up from the bed and headed back towards the door. Just as he was about to slip out, he paused, back to her and spoke in his usual even tone.

"We will continue this later."

She sighed and flopped back against the pillows as he left the room, pressing a finger to her lips in awe at what had just happened. If she was dreaming she never wanted to wake up.

"Oh, by the way, I was coming to inform you that Kaoru has regained consciousness," Aoshi said, appearing back in the doorway.

Misao was too joyful, even in her discomfort, to notice the way his eyes dropped to the finger still inadvertently touching her lips.

"I want to see her," she called after him as he left.

"Only after your stitches have been redone, Koi," he called back.

Her eyes widened at the endearment, a blush suffusing her cheeks.

_Kaoru was numb, the sedative the nurse had injected her with seeming to have sucked not just the pain but all feeling from her system. Lifting her hand, she watched how slowly it rose to meet her face and huffed a laugh. She supposed another word for the way she was feeling was 'high'._

_She felt her pillow vibrate behind her. Frowning, she forced her brain to concentrate. She was sure pillows weren't supposed to do that. Carefully, she lolled her head back against it and was glad she did. It was harder than she'd imagined. When her eyes opened, and she was almost definite she hadn't closed them, she looked into deep, roiling gold._

"_Oh," she breathed, reaching out to touch. "So pretty."_

_She felt more than saw the smile beneath her fingers as they slipped down across her pillow's face._

"_Thank you, Koneko, your eyes are pretty too."_

_A deep baritone rumbled against her and she sighed._

"_You're here," she whispered._

_The pillow tensed beneath her and she petted it absently._

"_Don't worry, it is not for long." A hand brushed her hair away from her face, tracing the line of her jaw. "I will not be hurting you for much longer, Koneko. I just need to know you are safe."_

_She hummed softly and rested her head into the crook of its neck._

"_Koneko, Misao is alive. When you wake, she will come to see you."_

"_Shush now pillow, I want to sleep," she grumbled, swiping weakly at it._

_With that, she dozed off to the steady shake of her pillow against her._

For the first time in a very long while, Kaoru woke feeling rested. Her body still ached, but her mind was clear, allowing her finally to process all that had happened. The hiding, the kidnapping, the hideous marriage and the fact that Misao was gone, she knew this, and the pain should be terrible, yet, somehow she didn't feel the same loss as she had.

She supposed it had something to do with her dream. She thought she'd woken to find Battousai holding her, laughing at her drugged behaviour. He'd told her Misao was alive. Deep down she knew it was just a sedative addled hallucination, but a part of her clung to it with the desperation of a drowning woman. If she let go of her life raft she wasn't sure she would be able to come back.

Opening her eyes, Kaoru found herself staring at the top of a head of brown messy hair. Yahiko? Surprised, she poked it gently with the tip of her finger and the boy griped, shuffling away from her touch.

"I wouldn't do that Jou-chan. The kid's head is a little delicate right now."

Sano was lounging across a couple of chairs arm strapped to his chest in a sling and a big grin spread across his face. It was the kind of smile that made her want to laugh and cry at the same time, full of affection, mischief and relief. He'd been worried about her.

"How you doing, Jou-chan? Life not treating you too badly I see."

He looked pointedly at her big white hospital bed, the flowers and food surrounding and practically swamping it.

"Think I'd like a bit of this treatment myself."

Kaoru chuckled and waved a hand at it.

"Go on, you're welcome to it."

This seemed to be all he was waiting for. Bouncing to his feet, he raced over to the bed and began pawing at the food seeming unable to decide what to eat first. In his eagerness, he knocked Yahiko's shoulder, jostling his head and forcing the boy awake.

"Sano!" He growled tiredly, gingerly rubbing a hand over his hair as he slid his chair away from the overexcited man-child.

Kaoru stopped halfway through a fit of giggles, eyes narrowing as she took in what he was doing.

"Sano, what did you mean Yahiko's head was 'delicate'?"

At the tone of her voice both men froze. There was a pregnant pause during which Kaoru could somehow never quite catch either one's eye. Yahiko shifted uncomfortably in his seat and elbowed Sano in the ribs.

"Oi, Dufus if you're going to wake me up you might as well share some of that," he grouched, grabbing the doughnut Sano was holding halfway to his mouth.

Kaoru was not going to let the boys' bickering distract her, however, snatching the food just before Sano could lunge for it and crushing it in her fist. Disregarding the cry of outrage that burst from them both, she glared at them.

"Spill it!"

Sano groaned softly, running a hand resignedly through his scruffy locks. He told Kaoru everything that had happened, although conveniently playing down his childish squabble with Cho.

"So while I was holding off like ten guards," he exclaimed, enthusiastically waving his hands around to recreate the scene and handily ignoring the snort of derision from Yahiko's direction. "Yahiko set the explosives and we escaped, but he hit his head, so, you know, probably best not to hit him too hard in this area here."

Sano circled an area above Yahiko's head and the boy slapped his hand away.

"Shut up, Roosterhead," he growled absently, too busy peering nervously at Kaoru to care about Sano's idiocy.

She was staring down at her hands, hair falling forwards to shield her expression from him. The silence made him edgy. Kaoru was never quiet. She blustered, badgered and browbeat, sometimes even resorting to physical violence, but she was never quiet, not when she had something like this to be angry about.

"Kaoru?" He asked, leaning forwards just a little.

For a moment there was no response. Then slowly her head turned to look at him. Skidding back in his chair, he felt Sano join him in his retreat. Kaoru looked like something out of a horror movie, skin pale, eyes flaring with something almost evil, shadowed by long dark hair. She wasn't just angry, she was incandescent, so furious she couldn't even form words.

"Jou-chan." Sano raised his one free hand, gaze flickering around the room for some form of weapon. "There's no need for violence. We can talk this out, right?"

When there was still no reply, he yanked Yahiko's chair in front of him. The boy struggled viciously, but he held him down by the shoulders.

"Take him then, Jou-chan, he's the one who insisted on going."

With that, Sano shoved Yahiko forwards and dove for the door at lightning speed.

"Son of a…! This is the last time I save your ass, Sano! Traitorous bastard!" Yahiko screamed after him as the door banged the wall with the force of his exit.

Hesitantly, he raised his head up from his sprawl against the bed, eyes screwed shut in preparation for the hell that was about to rain down.

"How's your head?"

He opened one eye and found Kaoru watching him calmly. What was happening? He was expecting a tongue-lashing the likes of which the world had never seen but instead she was asking after his health?

"I…It's better. Hurt like hell the first few days. The doctors were a bit worried `cause I was getting these headaches but I should have the all clear by next week."

She continued to stare at him for a minute and he shuffled under her look.

"Don't ever do something like this again."

Her tone was level, steel lining her words, brooking no arguments.

"I was trying to save you!" He protested incredulously. "I wasn't just going to sit around and wait for you to die!"

Snarling her anger, Kaoru grabbed him by the collar, yanking him forwards until he was half lying on the bed beside her.

"And how would I have felt if you died, huh? How would I have felt if I woke up and found you dead too?"

stain

She shook him violently, tears coursing down her cheeks and splashing onto her hospital robe. Yahiko gawked at her in shock. He'd never seen her like this, sobs racking her body, eyes wild with fear.

"Kaoru?" He probed, horrified. "What do you mean 'too'? Who else has died?"

She could barely see past her tears, the room and his face swimming and blurring. Did Yahiko not know? She brushed at his hair, gently stroking the bump that was steadily getting smaller.

"Misao is gone, Yahiko!" She wept quietly. "She's gone."

Yahiko looked at her in confusion. He'd seen the Itachi just yesterday and even with her injury she was just as lively and annoying as ever. Pulling on Kaoru's hands where they were still clutched in his clothes, he forced her attention to him.

"Misao's fine, Kaoru. She spent all day yesterday trying to catch me off guard and poke me in the head."

She shook her head hard, trying to stifle her pain so that she could make him understand.

"No, she died, Yahiko! Shishio told me he'd killed her."

A polite cough from the door caught their attention and they turned to see Aoshi.

"Perhaps I can help clear up this misunderstanding."

He turned to maneuver something into the room and Kaoru wiped her eyes to clear the mirage.

"Did someone mention me? My ears are burning." Misao beamed from her wheelchair.

The air stuck in Kaoru's lungs and she stared at her friend, taking in every living, breathing nuance of her body. She looked haggard, pale, her gown bulging at the torso with the bandages that had been wrapped around her wound, but somehow she was still Misao. Kaoru could sense the energy vibrating through her body despite the fact that it was only a glimmer of what it had been. She didn't care. Her best friend was sitting in front of her, alive.

"Took you long enough to come round, Lazy," Misao snipped. "I was up and about weeks ago and I took a katana to the chest! You only had a measly bullet!"

The constricting pain around Kaoru's heart eased, grief and guilt sliding off her shoulders like silk gliding off skin. This time it was tears of relief that stung the backs of her eyes. Choking on a laugh, she blinked hard.

"Sorry," she whispered.

Misao prodded Aoshi and clicked her tongue at him like a rider to a horse, pointing towards the bed. Kaoru suddenly realised that the rollercoaster of emotion must have tipped her over the edge because she knew for a fact she couldn't possibly have just seen Aoshi Shinomori smile as he wheeled the chirpy young woman over to sit beside her.

"You should be."

They practically fell into each other's arms, hugging tightly or what either of them could manage of it. It ended up being more hand and arm squeezing than anything else, but they clung together as though if they let go everything would shatter and disintegrate around them.

No one did anything for long, peaceful instants and then Yahiko huffed grumpily, breaking the spell.

"Oh, come on! She comes and sees you, and you go all mushy, I come and I get a poke in the head, a rattled brain and a lecture! No fair!"

Kaoru sniffed, laughing softly and Misao turned on him, swiping the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand.

"Shut up, little boy, the adults are talking," she teased, sticking her tongue out at him childishly.

"Who are you calling little, Pipsqueak?"

Kaoru watched, smiling fondly as they quarreled. Misao expertly twirled her wheelchair round and rammed Yahiko in the shins. Squawking his indignation, Yahiko grabbed for her, but stumbled forward, clasping only thin air as she rolled quickly back out of his reach. Kaoru looked up and caught Aoshi observing their shenanigans with as much affectionate amusement as she, though the only sign was the slight crinkle at the sides of his mouth and eyes.

A wave of happiness washed over her, tingling through her fingers and warming cold places that hadn't felt the heat in a long time. Clutching at her heart, a sob broke from her throat. Everyone was safe, happy and there was nothing left, at least for now, to hurt them.

Yahiko and Misao immediately stopped their arguing, flapping round her bed trying to work out what the matter was. Tittering through her waterworks, she waved them off, a flash of red drawing her eyes back to the door where Kenshin stood propped against the wall. His shirt, opened at the collar, was wrinkled from the nap he'd gone to take in one of the staff's on call rooms and his hair was a mess. Holding a cup of coffee in one hand, a gentle look softened his face as he surveyed the scene.

_Don't worry, it is not for much longer. I will not be hurting you for much longer, Koneko_. Kaoru's soggy smile faltered as they looked at each other. If her dream had been right about Misao, was it right about this? Was he leaving her?

**Author's Note:** Alrighty, folks! As always read and review! If you make me happy enough (and we all know lots of nice comments make me very, very happy) maybe I'll let you take my lemon virginity in the next chapter!


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note:** No excuses, guys! I'm just going to apologise for how ridiculously long it's taken me to write this final chapter and hope that the smut makes up for it! My first lemon in my first story! Enjoy!

**Chapter Fifteen**

The days drifted by, each one seeming longer than the last. While the others were recovering perfectly, despite Misao's stubborn refusal to rest, Kaoru's wound wasn't healing as well as the doctors had hoped, an infection pushing back her recuperation and causing them to hold her in for observation. The only person who didn't seem concerned by this fact was a young male nurse who came in to check on her every day, always conveniently while Kenshin was out of the way. His large smile quite clearly stating he didn't mind much having her around.

Yahiko also came in daily for at least an hour and took to bringing his bokken along. The room was just large enough at the end of the bed to allow him to demonstrate the katas he'd been practicing so she could give him tips on his posture and movements as he did so. She'd regretfully suggested he enter a different school or have someone else train him until she was back on her feet, but he refused vehemently. He'd obviously been working hard in her absence and she barely needed to correct him. With pride, she realised she'd need to start teaching him the advanced katas once the doctors let her back on her feet.

Misao also came for a while every day although Kaoru was beginning to hope she wouldn't. Misao was physically incapable of shutting up about how wonderful Aoshi was for more than a minute at a time and by the end of each visit Kaoru wasn't only desperate to escape her bed but also her ability to hear. It wasn't that she didn't feel happy for her friend. She loved that Misao had finally got the man she'd longed for all these years. She'd been overjoyed to hear all about it when at last they'd got a moment alone together. It was just that she didn't want to be privy to each word Aoshi spoke or every tiny nuance of his expression as he did so. More than that though, it was the fact that every time she heard of the small, thoughtful things the Okashira did, it only served to highlight how distant Kenshin had become.

He hadn't showed any signs of Battousai since that first day and the change made Kaoru anxious. He treated her with all the care and concern in the world, never leaving her room for anything longer than a nap. Yet, somehow his behaviour felt empty as though he were simply going through the motions.

She couldn't help being restless, constantly watching him out of the corner of her eye for some sign of what he was thinking or what he was planning to do. She disgusted herself with how her heart dropped and her chest constricted every time he left the room, unable to shake the idea that he wouldn't come back.

The others noticed her agitation, but they seemed to chalk it up to her dislike of being trapped in bed and she supposed they weren't entirely wrong. She hadn't been allowed to do more than take short walks down to the cafeteria since the operation to remove the bullet and she could feel her conditioning dwindle with each passing day. It made her antsy, frustrated that she could do nothing to keep in shape.

Sano and Megumi dropped in once a week too and she could sense from her room how the doctors and nurses tensed every time the private physician stepped out of the lift. The first time Megumi had come to visit, she'd carefully inspected Kaoru's medical chart and then proceeded to inform the staff on duty not just all the things they could improve on but also all the things they had been doing wrong. Since then she had become a pariah. According to the chatty male nurse rumours about the evil witch doctor had spread throughout the hospital. Only they didn't say witch.

Sano, on the other hand, was a major hit. His boyish charm and easy sense of humour attracted not just the women but the men as well, often causing serious internal conflict among the staff when he and Megumi both came at once. They seemed unable to decide whether to brave the cold, superiority of the one for the warmth and friendliness of the other.

There were two incidents during her hospital stay, however, which shook up this seemingly established and increasingly frustrating routine. The first was an informative visit from a lawyer in an incredibly expensive suit. He notified her, after a lengthy and highly insincere expression of his condolences at the tragic loss of her husband, that Shishio had left no will, probably, she surmised, because he didn't expect to be the one to die. She kept that information to herself, however. In consequence, Kaoru stood as the sole beneficiary to all Shishio's worldly possessions, including the multi-million dollar company he owned, an irony which did not escape her.

She wasn't sure how she felt about this new windfall being added to her already substantial, though in her opinion dirty, wealth. She couldn't help feeling that more blood had been left to stain her hands. Dismantling the companies, however, was sadly not a viable option. The shareholders would be up in arms and the effort and legal battles it would take to go through with it involved energy she didn't think she'd be able to muster for a long time. Instead, talking it over later with Aoshi and Kenshin, she chose to merge the two enterprises together, putting a trusted man at the top to ensure that the surplus weapons already manufactured would only go to the right places. Meanwhile, she would set up a facility to research how to improve body armour and other forms of protection against the arms her company had previously produced. Unfortunately, Kenshin was not overly happy with the man she had picked to oversee this. Yet, in this she did not take his advice. To her, her godfather was the obvious choice, and the fact that Saitou didn't get on with her red haired assassin wasn't about to stop her from following her instincts.

It wasn't just the increase in her affluence that was news to her that day, however. All through the interview with the lawyer she had had to rely on the man's obvious belief in her deep grief at the passing of her husband to explain her constant silence. It was only after he had been safely escorted and dispatched in the lift by her "bodyguard", Kenshin, and the "head of security" for her company, Sano, that Kaoru was finally brought up to speed with what exactly was supposed to have happened that day at the compound.

Apparently, during her wedding reception, as far as the authorities could gather, an unknown rival company had taken the opportunity of finding in one place the CEOs of the two largest arms distributors in the world, hiring a hit squad to remove the competition. Before security had discovered and managed to fight off the threat, several innocent bystanders had been killed, including Shishio's sister, Yumi Makoto, and Kaoru's financial advisor, Takeda Kanryu, who had been found with his throat slit in the wine cellar of the main house. Kaoru found she was only mildly disturbed at her own intense delight hearing about the death of her father's murderer, and only slightly more distressed at the disappointment she felt at having not been able to do the job herself. Though it seemed she could not give up her principles for her father in life, she had a feeling she would have to avenge his death. It was a good thing this theory had not needed to be tested.

According to sources, including several prominent members of society who had been guests at the event, just before the guards could rush to the rescue, one of the assassins had found the newlyweds. Shishio, her brave and beloved groom, had thrown himself in front of Kaoru to save her from a bullet, but sadly, it had passed straight through him, killing him instantly, and entered her chest almost fatally wounding her too. Sano had had to pause at this point to regain his ability to take in oxygen, the look on her face nearly tipping him from his chair laughing.

Kaoru was baffled. This account of what happened was so incredible, so ridiculous, she couldn't understand how anyone would believe it. Then again maybe the fact that it was so fantastical made it impossible for anyone not to. After all, who would come up with a lie that bad? Somehow, though, while outrageous, this version of events still seemed underwhelming compared to what they'd actually all been through.

The second event was only slightly less shocking and happened near the end of her hospital stay. Her male nurse had observed one day how impatient she was becoming about getting exercise, pointing out that, unless she had ants in her pants, he didn't understand why she couldn't seem to manage to lie still. She'd snapped at him to mind his own business, sending him scurrying, but the next day he'd returned and let slip that he'd actually taken a course on physiotherapy during his training. He proposed that rather than her injuring herself trying to do too much too soon, he'd do her a favour by coming in once a day to go through some basic workouts with her to keep her from losing her mind. She'd jumped at the chance and since then every time Kenshin left for the nap he always took while she was supposed to be having her own he would come in and help her.

She was lying back in bed on the day it happened, doing the gentle leg exercises they'd built into the routine. He stood over her, holding her leg as she did slow bicycle kicks, his grip light to the point of a caress as he moved his hand to her thigh, steadying and correcting her movement. They were only halfway through the process and she was already ridiculously out of breath, her face flushed, but she took solace from the fact that the nurse clearly wasn't an athlete himself, unable even to help her with her regimen without getting all hot and bothered himself.

The gym shorts Misao had been instructed to bring her in the deepest secret had ridden up a little and she tried for the hundredth time to yank them down without much success.

'Gym clothes,' her male nurse tutted, laughing. 'They never behave.'

Resting one hand on the back of her thigh just below the knee, he shifted to bend forward somewhat unnecessarily close as he helped her to tug them into place with the other.

'You know, Kaoru, I heard you're going to be released soon,' he murmured sadly, surprising her by not moving back. 'And I don't think I can pass up the once in a lifetime opportunity of meeting such a beautiful woman round this dump, you know, so I was thinking I'd give you my number and we could meet up when you're all healed.'

When all she did was stare, he paused for a second before a wicked smirk spread across his face, thumb stroking the inside of her thigh setting off a trail of goosebumps.

'Or you know if you need some personal care, I can always make home visits. After all I have to help the injured what with my Hippocratic Oath and all.'

Kaoru blinked up at him as he grinned cockily down at her. While he'd flirted with her all through her stay, she couldn't help but be a little surprised at this sudden brazen attitude. She got the feeling that perhaps it wasn't only her looks that were attracting him.

Before she could gather enough of her scattered wits to make a reply, a deep, angry voice did it for her.

'The Hippocratic Oath is for doctors,' it rumbled. 'Speaking of which, I think they might be interested to hear that one of their nurses has been not only harassing a grieving widow in her hospital bed but also endangering her recovery.'

Both Kaoru and the young man looked up, startled, to find Kenshin standing in the doorway, hand gripping the handle so tightly his knuckles were white with the strain. Except this wasn't the usual Kenshin mask, the swirling shades of gold and amber in his eyes telling Kaoru and her suddenly erratically beating heart that this was the Battousai. Those telltale eyes were trained on the male nurse's hands where they still lay against her skin.

Fleetingly, she thanked her lucky stars that a week or so earlier the doctors had deemed her heart rate monitor unnecessary, turning it off, or she was sure the hospital staff would have come running, thinking she was having a coronary.

The male nurse shot away from her as though his flesh burned from her touch, stammering apologies, but she barely noticed. All thought, all consciousness of her surroundings zeroed in, as his intense gaze slid over her, gliding across her body as though he were visually claiming every part, and that was what it felt like. The way he looked at her sent tingles running through her entire body, reminding her that even hidden beneath his disguise, he still wanted her and he still saw her in that same breathtakingly possessive way.

Both ignored the nurse as he edged his way out of the room, pleading all the way. The fact that Battousai let him leave so easily stunned her. After all, the only other man to have hit on her in Battousai's presence had ended up nearly strangled and thrown across a dance floor. It was only then that she noticed how much tension laced his frame and the way his hands shook with the need to grab the fleeing man. Battousai was holding himself back by a thread of control and, looking into his roiling amber gaze, she realised with a thrill that it was for her.

She was enthralled, heart in her throat. The decision wasn't even conscious. She was on her knees on the bed before her mind had even caught up with her instincts, arms reaching. It was like she was a moth, aware of the danger of being scorched but so captivated by the flame that the idea of staying away was impossible.

One of his hands found its way into her hair, tangling the strands around his fingers, the other slid around her waist, pulling her to him. They fit like puzzle pieces, her soft melting into his hard.

He didn't kiss her, but he didn't have to. She pressed her face into his shoulder, the fabric of his shirt faintly rough against her skin. She was so close she felt the shuddering sigh ripple through his body. Then suddenly something was different. It wasn't anything obvious but somehow in the way he held her she could feel his need. It was as though his sense of desperation was transmitting into her. She clung to him as he fisted the back of her top, half-dragging her to him, half-pulling her away.

He dropped his head to rest against her hair, breathing ragged.

'You're mine,' he ground out, voice vibrating with the strength of his conviction. 'You will always be mine.'

Kaoru shivered deliciously at his words. Not long ago they would have scared her, made her feel trapped, but now they just curled warmth through her. He would never hurt her she knew that now. She smiled against his neck, nodding her assent.

'Now who's harassing the grieving widow?' she teased lightly.

As soon as the words slipped from her mouth she knew she'd said the wrong thing. Closing her eyes, she clenched her fists in the fabric of his shirt, trying to stop him pulling away as he went rigid in her arms, but the damage was done.

He wasn't violent about it. Gently prying her fingers loose, he simply stepped back out of her reach.

'Forgive me, Kaoru-dono,' he said, trying and failing to control his voice into the smooth tenor he hid behind.

When Kaoru opened her eyes, he was gone.

Kenshin barely made physical contact with her again after that. If he did have to touch her it was in lightning fast brushes as though any longer and his hand might shrivel up and drop off.

As the nurse had said, she was soon released from the hospital to return home. Between her months of concealment with the Oniwabanshu, her time with Battousai and her capture by Shishio, it had been almost exactly a year since she'd last seen her small one bedroom apartment above her dojo and at first she was so overjoyed at finding everything safe that she forgot the pain of Kenshin's emotional withdrawal.

Someone had obviously been in to clean and stock the place, as it was actually in better condition than when she'd last been there. The fridge and cupboards were full of food everyone knew she couldn't possibly manage to cook herself and it sent a bubble of hope coursing through her that her fears might not come to fruition, that her redhead was staying with her.

Initially, her optimism seemed justified. While he still kept his distance, Kenshin cooked, cleaned and cared for her like a most devoted partner, actually overprotective in his attempts to keep her from straining herself.

That all changed the day after her doctors gave her the all clear to begin building up her training again. She was lounging on the sofa, having tired herself out with a slightly overexerting self-congratulatory workout in her beloved dojo, when her world came crumbling down.

'Kaoru-dono, Sessha must go, that he must,' Kenshin murmured, coming over to place some miso on the coffee table beside her.

She rolled her eyes, picking up her soup to take a sip.

'We've got enough food, Kenshin. You don't need to go to the supermarket again!' She quipped, happily.

There was a heavy beat of silence and she hesitantly look up. Kenshin was standing with his shoulders hunched, shuffling in that odd little way he had. He wasn't looking at her. Very carefully, she put the miso back down on the table.

Deep down she'd known this was coming with the certainty of a person who had spent the last Kami knew how many weeks trapped with a man who treated her like a contagious disease. Strangely, it was almost like a pressure she hadn't even know was there eased off her chest. Then it returned twofold. She'd known, yet that didn't stop the hurt that threatened to consume her as he brought her worst fears to life. Neither did it help the overwhelming rage that followed. In that moment she wanted to beat the concerned, meek little servant look off his face until there was nothing left.

'Forgive Sessha, Kaoru-dono. This is for the best. If Sessha does not go, you will always be in danger.'

He reached out for the first time in weeks to intentionally touch her, brushing his hand across her cheek.

She slapped it away with an audible crack, lips pulling away from her teeth in a sneer of disgust. The coward was using her as an excuse, pretending that the reason he was leaving was for her. What garbage! This was never about her. He had nearly lost her and he was scared. No, scared wasn't strong enough, he was terrified by the intensity of his own fear of losing her. He couldn't hack it so he was running away and she'd be damned if she was going to make it easy for him to walk out that door.

'Please, Kaoru-dono, don't you see? As long as Sessha is with you, you will be in danger. I have to go for you safety. What Sessha does, what Sessha must do, will always make you a target and he can't let that happen. He must…'

'Shut up!' She screamed. 'For once just shut up with your damn self-punishment!'

Kenshin closed his mouth with an audible click, nodding resignedly. He clasped his hands neatly before him and bowed low, retreating to the door. Gripping the handle, he turned to give her one last look.

'In time, Kaoru-dono, you will understand that what Sessha is doing is for the best.'

Kaoru opened her mouth to hiss a venomous retort, but paused at his expression. The intense pain she felt was mirrored in the lines at the corners of his mouth and eyes but there was something else, something she could only describe as relief easing the burden of his suffering. A stab of agony caught the air in her lungs and she reeled back. He was relieved to be rid of her? His gaze flickered with concern, the relief vanishing, and she realised with a sudden flash of intuition that this strange consolation came with her anger. He wanted her angry, was deliberately trying to make her so, because if there was anger there was no hurt to hold him back. He was acting this way on purpose!

Tamping down on the urge to rip him apart, she forcibly pushed aside the fury that was holding the floodgates closed. She refused to keep him with her out of guilt, but she would not make it easy for him to leave her either. If she was going to suffer then he was going to suffer more.

'I guess I'll give Ishin a call then. You remember that nice nurse, right? He came back and gave me his number after you left,' she said, feigning nonchalance. 'I'm sure he'll come and look after me.'

He didn't turn but his hand flexed against the door handle, fingers clenching until the knuckles stood out stark white. She could almost see the concerted effort it took to regain control, air trickling from his lungs as he forced himself to relax. His voice, however, had dropped a few octaves.

'Sessha understands. It will take some time, but when you see you will appreciate what he is doing.'

Turning the handle, he paused.

'Goodbye, Kaoru-dono.'

The bowl of miso shattered against the door by his head but he didn't flinch, the burning liquid splashing across his face and the porcelain shards slicing into his cheek. Dark blood and soup mingled to trickle a slow stream down his neck. She didn't care, couldn't stop even if she wanted to, all the frustration, the anger, the pain, it had burst its dam and nothing was going to change its course.

'Don't patronise me, you arrogant son of a bitch! I know perfectly well what's going on. Did it even occur to you that maybe, just maybe, this wasn't about you! Shishio wanted me, my money, my company, _me_! It had nothing to do with you or your stupid, piece of crap organisation. It had nothing to do with _you_!'

She stopped for a moment to draw in a shuddering breath but she wasn't done yet, not even close. It made her skin crawl with a mixture of dread and rage the way he just stood there with his back turned as though he didn't care, neither leaving nor staying. She was terrified that if she stopped talking he'd go. She wanted him to face her.

'Bet it stings, doesn't it?' She jeered. 'You were just an obstacle, collateral damage! The great and mighty Battousai, not the center of fucking attention for once in his life.'

Finally, he whirled round to face her and a gasp lodged itself inside her throat. His shaggy fringe only half concealed eyes like molten lava, churning shades of amber coalescing into dark, dilated pupils.

'Koneko.'

Warning seeped from every syllable of that one inoffensive word but she stood her ground, clinging to her righteous anger. He hadn't left yet and until he did she was going to tell him everything she had to say.

'You deceive me, you stalk me, trap me in the middle of nowhere with no one but you and some hair gel sniffing idiot for protection and now you're telling me I'm not safe with you? You make no sense and you make me sick and you're a spineless disgrace for a man and you promised me you couldn't leave me and I love you so much it kills me.'

He jerked forwards as though she'd electrocuted him and suddenly all she wanted was for him to leave. She couldn't believe what she'd done. She'd said too much and left herself too vulnerable to him. The thought of what he might say now left a bitter taste in her mouth. She'd rather he go than utter even one more disgusting excuse why he should.

Edging back, she waved sharply at the door.

'Go now,' she mumbled, looking away. 'I don't want you here any more. You don't have to worry. I'll move on even if I have to screw every male nurse in Tokyo to do it.'

But rather than do as she said, he ignored her crude statement and did the exact opposite. Eyes widening, she swallowed a squeak as her gaze darted up to see him prowl silently across the carpet towards her. His impenetrable expression would have made even Aoshi proud, but the lithe way he moved like a jungle cat stalking its prey told her he was anything but indifferent.

'I don't think so,' he purred, eyes flaring as he watched her stumble backwards against the arm of the sofa. 'I've tried to be strong, Koneko. I tried to let you go before it was too late, but you're impossible. I thought you wouldn't want me like this and that was the only thing that gave me the power to go. Nothing else could have, not even trying to keep you safe. I can and will keep you safe. You have no idea what you're getting yourself into, what I've done. There are people who want me to suffer and who will stop at nothing to make that happen. Perhaps this time it wasn't about me but next time…There is so much risk, but what you just said… I'm sorry, now it's too late.'

Scrambling round the side of the sofa, Kaoru stumbled back until she hit the wall with an audible thud and he crowded her closer, slowly and purposefully resting a hand on either side of her head.

'I can't let you go,' he whispered, lowering his head those few inches to meet her lips.

Lost for a moment in the force of his presence, she tilted her head back, breath slipping out in gasps as she reached up. But before they could touch, she remembered where she was and what she was doing, turning her face so his mouth brushed her cheek. She was so confused. One second the man was pushing her away so fast she could almost feel the whiplash and the next he was so incredibly intense and possessive that her toes curled with the need to feel him. Suddenly their roles were reversed and she wanted space, needed him gone so that she could gather together the shreds of her thoughts.

'Get out,' she growled.

She pressed back harder against the wall, lifting her hands to hold him off. Shoving at his hard chest was like trying to push a boulder cemented to the floor. Yet, somehow she didn't feel trapped, only frustrated and even more muddled.

'I don't get you,' she hissed. 'You don't make any sense. You tell me you thought I wouldn't accept you for who you are, but then you're telling me you're dangerous, that I'm not safe with you and you have to go. Then you won't leave me alone. Just leave me alone!'

She emphasised her words by ramming the palms of her hands into his chest but he moved back only far enough to catch them, holding them in place.

'No,' he said determinedly, stroking his thumb across the backs of her fingers.

That one word turned her perplexed frustration back into boiling anger. How dare he! He had treated her so coldly for weeks, made her feel like the smallest thing in the world and then he turned round and expected her to fall into his arms. Only seconds ago he was trying to leave her. The extremes of emotion were too much. She couldn't cope with it any more.

'Get out!'

She snatched her hands away, hitting him square across the face.

'Get out now! I never…'

His lips silenced her words as he dropped his arms to wrap round her, jerking her forwards until she was plastered to him. She wanted to let him continue so badly but her pride wouldn't allow it. Snarling, she yanked back on his ponytail, strands coming away in her hand. A low rumble vibrated against her, sending a sizzle of heat through her veins.

'I love it when you get rough with me, Koneko,' he purred teasingly, kissing the corner of her mouth. 'You have no idea…'

She didn't let him finish either, biting down hard enough on his lip to taste blood. His head shot back, but he didn't let up on the pressure against her body. Running his tongue along his new injury, he dipped his head and caught her mouth in a bone-melting kiss.

Fisting his shirt in her hands, all thought fled as she arched her back against the hand stroking up the sensitive flesh of her stomach to cup her breast through her top. He caressed and squeezed, the friction of cloth between her heated skin and his making her body ache and suddenly she couldn't bear the clothes that separated them.

Releasing her hold on his shirt, she began to fumble with the buttons before simply pulling it from his trousers in her frustration to slip her hands beneath. She felt rather than heard the chuckle against her lips as he pulled away just enough to drag the article over his head, dropping it onto the floor. Then he did the same to her top, throwing it away as though it offended him. The rest of their clothes quickly followed and he was lifting her with one arm against the wall, nipping and kissing his way down her neck as he brushed the peak of a nipple with his other hand. Tingles shot straight through her body to the softest part of her and she moaned, rubbing herself against him to assuage the delicious ache that was by now almost excruciating.

He tensed against her, a guttural noise slipping from him as he squeezed her bottom.

'Do that again,' he ground out low, teeth grazing her collarbone.

She didn't need telling twice, the sensation a pleasure pain as she began caressing her body against his. It wasn't enough, not nearly enough, and he pressed her closer grinding back in a way that made her cry out, heading lolling against the wall.

Then he was sliding into her and there was nothing else. The friction as her back chafed against the wall was probably going to hurt in the morning and her legs wrapped around his waist would no doubt feel the ache of holding herself against him, but for now her world had narrowed into this one moment, the movement of their bodies together, the tension building within her from head to toe and the murmured words of need that passed between them.

Digging her nails into his back, she felt the power beneath her hands, the glide of sleek muscles, and it only made her body crave him more. He bit her shoulder in retaliation and it sent her spiraling over the edge, Battousai following moments later.

After that she vaguely remembered him carrying her limp and satiated body into the bedroom, slipping them both under the covers and curling himself around her. She'd closed her eyes, his strong arm around her waist and his comforting heat against her back, and felt for the first time as though everything were truly right with the world, no burden of concern for anything weighing her down.

'Koneko,' Battousai growled, jangling the cuffs against the bedframe. 'Release me.'

Kaoru smirked and trailed a finger down his chest in slow intricate patterns, watching the way the amber of his eyes darkened to deep gold.

'No. I don't think I will,' she teased, slipping her leg over his hip to straddle him. 'I don't want you changing your mind and deciding to leave again, now do I?'

Pressing her hands into the pillow on either side of his head, she leaned forwards until she was mere inches away from his face. She could feel the rumble vibrate through them both and giggled as he strained up to chase her lips.

'Koneko.'

The word was half groan and half warning and she shivered with the sweet retribution it promised.

'Besides,' she said, lowering her head to murmur in his ear. 'It's only fair. You handcuffed me.'

With that she slowly lifted her face, feeling the rasp of early morning stubble against her cheek, and kissed him.

**Author's Note:** So there you have it! I've calculated it's taken me about four and a half years to finally get this sucker finished, so let me know if it was worth it! Thanks to TheAlchemist'sDaughter for doing some betaing for me and thanks to all my lovely readers for spurring me on to get this done! Review please!


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